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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24684553">Sunday, Then</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ktula/pseuds/ktula'>ktula</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Terror (TV 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Come Eating, Comeplay, Consent Negotiation, Double Penetration, Edward Little and the no good very bad ability to prioritize decisions, Edward Little has two hands, M/M, Nonmonogamous Relationship, Oral Sex, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Tapes, Shame Edward Little Power Hour, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism, and they were ROOMMATES, but boy are there a lot of situations, emotional support pillow, it's a situational thing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:35:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,853</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24684553</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ktula/pseuds/ktula</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Local disaster Edward Little attempts to pick up Thomas Jopson at a gay bar, without losing the option to fuck his roommate.</p>
<p>It doesn't go as he expects.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lt Edward Little/Sgt Solomon Tozer, Thomas Jopson/Lt Edward Little, Thomas Jopson/Lt Edward Little/Sgt Solomon Tozer, Thomas Jopson/Sgt Solomon Tozer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>67</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>120</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sunday, Then</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Buckle up, here we go!</p>
<p>Content notes are at the end. If you have any questions, you can reach out on tumblr or <a href="https://curiouscat.me/heyktula">CuriousCat</a>.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s going to be a good night. Still early for a Friday, well before midnight, but it’s the end of the week regardless, and the reckless energy of it seeps through the club, constant as the bass heartbeat reverbing off the walls. It’s the perfect time of year—midterms are on the horizon, but not close enough for any of the undergrads to be stressed, and papers aren’t due for a few more weeks, so the kitchen table is reasonably neat, instead of being covered with stacks of Edward’s marking. He’s got all the time in the world. It’s a good night to hook up with somebody.</p>
<p>Edward glances up, scans the crowd on the balcony overlooking the dance floor. Locates Tozer’s messy red-blond hair immediately. He’s slouched against one of the pillars upstairs, head tilted to the side, thumb hooked in his belt loop. The guy he’s talking to looks alright. Tall, neat beard. Bit stuck-up for Edward’s tastes, but that’s not Edward’s problem.</p>
<p>(It’s <em>not</em>.)</p>
<p>Edward throws back the last of his double rum and coke. Leans in past the crush of people at the bar to set his empty glass down on the counter. Turns back to the dance floor, dreading having to step out on it—but he doesn’t have to. There’s another full drink right in front of him, held out like an offering.</p>
<p>Edward looks at the glass a moment. Drags his eyes from the very fine hand holding the glass, all the way up the lovely forearm to the narrow shoulder. Gets stuck, for a moment, at the collarbone left exposed by the unbuttoned pale blue short-sleeved shirt. The tight white undershirt, nipples just barely visible through it. Edward bites his lip, flicks his eyes up to the man’s face and—oh.</p>
<p>It’s going to be a <em>very</em> good night, starting right about now.</p>
<p>Edward raises his eyebrows just slightly. “You buying me a drink?”</p>
<p>The handsome young man smiles at Edward. His eyes are the same colour as the ocean, and a lock of his black hair is starting to come loose. It’s moments away from falling over his eyes and Edward wants, desperately, to brush it back into place. “You looked like you needed another one. I’m Tom.”</p>
<p>Edward wraps his hand around the glass, fingers touching the other man’s. “Edward. Thank you for the drink.”</p>
<p>“You’re welcome,” Tom says easily. Then he offers a small smile. “Double, right? I watched you order the last one.”</p>
<p>“That’s right,” Edward says. “You watched me, huh?” He drags his eyes slow down Tom’s neck, his chest, the tall glass held in his other hand. “Drinking cocktails tonight?”</p>
<p>“The special,” Tom says, eyes dancing. “I like the cherries.”</p>
<p>“I suppose this is my opening to ask you if you can tie a cherry stem with your tongue,” Edward says. God, this is heady—he never feels like this, like he’s falling into a hookup easily. It’s always difficult, like trying to code by hand. Maybe this is what Tozer means when he claims he just crooks his fingers and they come. Edward isn’t sure who is the one doing the coming, here.</p>
<p>(Both of them, hopefully.)</p>
<p>“I meant it when I said I liked them,” Tom admits, brushing his hair back out of his eyes with a rueful grin. He raises his glass. It’s all alcohol and ice, with no cherry to be seen.</p>
<p>“Eat the fruit first, do you,” Edward murmurs.</p>
<p>“Always before the main event,” Tom agrees.</p>
<p>Edward’s heart rackets in his chest, and he swallows convulsively, hopes his nerves aren’t visible on his face. Knows they are. Hopes it won’t matter. The lights on the dancefloor pulse blue-pink-purple in his peripheral vision, and he desperately hopes he won’t have to go out there to keep talking to Tom. “Let me buy you another one, then.”</p>
<p>Tom’s eyes widen, the lights dancing over his face. God, he looks so <em>soft</em>. “Please.”</p>
<p>“Stay there,” Edward says. He goes to leave, thinks better of it. Reaches for Tom’s elbow and steers Tom away from the dance floor, closer to the wall. (Within visible distance of the balcony.) “Here,” he says softly. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” With that, Edward turns and heads back to the bar. Shakes his hand out on the way there to get rid of the tingly feeling that happened when they touched. It’s just nerves. He always has those. All nerves, all the time.</p>
<p>When he gets to the bar, he shoulders his way up to the front, catches the bartender’s eye. “One of those, uh. Signature cocktails, extra cherry.”</p>
<p>The bartender pops her gum. “Sex on My Face?”</p>
<p>Christ, Edward can feel his face go hot all the way down his chest. “Yeah, I guess.” He glances back over his shoulder, wondering for a moment if he’s imagined the entire encounter—who drinks a drink with such a ridiculous name?—but, no, there’s still a gorgeous man standing right at the edge of the dance floor, carefully adjusting the fit of his shirt and fixing his hair. There’s a smear of glitter just at his temple that Edward hadn’t noticed before, and Edward is hit by the dual impulse of wanting to punch whoever had rubbed it on him, and wanting to lick it off.</p>
<p>Fuck. He’s gonna fuck this up if he doesn’t slow the fuck down. He takes a deep breath, curls his toes in his trainers. Glances upstairs again.</p>
<p>Tozer’s watching him now. He’s alone. He waits till he’s sure Edward is looking, makes an obscene gesture with his hand like it’s an offer.</p>
<p>(It <em>is</em> an offer.)</p>
<p>Edward shakes his head, tilts it back in the direction of the dance floor, and the achingly handsome man waiting for him.</p>
<p>Tozer’s eyebrows rise. <em>Really? </em>he mouths.</p>
<p>Edward scrunches his nose, looks back at the bartender before he loses his nerve. Tips well when the drink is made and handed over, glad for the condensation gathering on the glass because it covers for his sweaty palm. It’s fine. The night is still young. Tozer’s got plenty of time to crook his fingers in another direction. And Edward’s just gonna keep doing his thing, considering that this is the one time it’s maybe gonna work in his favour.</p>
<p>(He does his best not to think about the headboard of his bed banging against the wall while Tozer lies on his bed on the other side of it, staring vaguely at the ceiling while Edward and Tom fuck.)</p>
<p>“Two cherries,” Tom marvels when Edward extends the drink out toward him. “Would you look at that.” His fingers brush against Edward’s when he takes the drink, and then, with a glance up over Edward’s shoulder, Tom bends his head to his plastic glass, nips the stem of both cherries into his mouth. “Watch me,” he says, softly.</p>
<p>(His eyes look exactly like the ocean, changing with the light, reflecting back the glimmer of the disco ball that spins perpetually from the ceiling, casting mirrored reflections out over everything, and Edward wonders how Tom is going to look in his bed, sprawled out across clean sheets, body naked and cock arching up toward his belly as Edward strips, leaves the bedroom door open and carefully approaches the bed—)</p>
<p>God, Edward can’t look away from him. Tom looks as though he’s moments away from laughing, his eyes bright and vivid, shifting back and forth between blue and green as the lights on the dance floor change. Edward wants to get him somewhere with consistent lighting or maybe just less of it, press him back against a wall, rest his hand on the waist of Tom’s chinos, slide his palm down between Tom’s legs—</p>
<p>“There,” Tom murmurs softly, but he doesn’t open his mouth wide or display his tongue. Instead, he just tilts his head ever-so-slightly to the side, maintains eye contact. “Would you like to kiss me?”</p>
<p>Edward stares at him.</p>
<p>(It <em>never</em> goes this well. He’s never picked up someone this fast in his <em>life</em>. Fuck, he hopes Tozer is still watching, because if he’s not, Edward will be laughed out of their apartment the moment he tries to tell this story.)</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Edward says, voice thick. “Holy fuck, I—yeah.”</p>
<p>Tom smiles. Leans in close, presses his closed lips against Edward’s. He tastes sweet, sugar and fruit juice with a hint of alcohol underneath, and fuck, if he were to close the distance between them, slide his hand between Edward’s body and his, Edward would let him. He’s aching to be touched, but the only point of contact between them is their lips; their lips and the hint of Tom’s tongue, pressing something against Edward’s mouth.</p>
<p>Tom is grinning when he pulls back.</p>
<p>Edward brings his fingers up to his own lips, takes the tied cherry stem from between them. “Impressive,” he manages. He sounds stupid. Hopes it comes off as suave instead. Knows it won’t.</p>
<p>(<em>Big dumbass energy</em>, Tozer calls it. <em>Don’t worry, men like that on you.</em>)</p>
<p>Tom opens his mouth. The second cherry stem is sitting on his tongue, a knot tied in it just as deft as the one Edward is holding between his fingers.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” Edward says eloquently.</p>
<p>Tom grins at him.</p>
<p>🍒</p>
<p>It’s going extremely well. Better than Edward could have imagined. They’re tucked into a far corner of the bar, underneath the balcony. Edward’s back is against the wall, and Tom is standing beside him, body turned toward Edward. Their thighs are touching. Edward thinks Tom is visibly hard. Hasn’t reached out to check, but he’s considering it. The shadows would cover them. Probably nobody would notice.</p>
<p>“—nearly approached you last week,” Tom is confiding, “but by the time I’d worked myself up to it, you were getting your date’s coat and on your way out the door.”</p>
<p>“Right,” Edward says in vague agreement. He hardly remembers last week—Tozer had done well that night, a young man with dark hair and nice eyes who’d been staring at Tozer with admiration all night. Edward had more or less just picked up the guy he was chatting to at the time, because it was easiest. The blowjob hadn’t been particularly memorable or engaging, and Edward had given a handjob and a back rub in return, then claimed he was coming down with a headache, both of them steadfastly ignoring the noises from the other bedroom.</p>
<p>(Well, Edward’s date, or whatever, had been ignoring it. Edward had gone back to his room after seeing the guy out, laid down on his bed. Lay there, listening to the fucking on the other side of the wall. He’d slid his hand into his boxers for something to do, wondering if Tozer had his big hand planted right between the guy’s shoulder blades, if Tozer’s pillow still smelled like that cologne he’d been wearing lately. When he woke up the following morning, Tozer was cuddled up next to him, nose buried in Edward’s shoulder. Edward had pulled the blanket over both of them, gone back to sleep. They hadn’t talked about it then. There’s no reason for Edward to be thinking about it now.)</p>
<p>“Hey,” Tom says next to him, voice low. “Are you still with me?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Edward says quickly. “Sorry, sorry. I’m a jerk.”</p>
<p>“I never said that,” Tom says, amused. He touches his fingers lightly to Edward’s hip, hooks them into Edward’s belt loop. “I just wanted to know who has the other half of your attention.”</p>
<p>“It’s all for you,” Edward says, voice low, like a fucking <em>liar</em> because of course that’s exactly when his phone rings. “Mother<em>fucker</em>.”</p>
<p>Tom laughs.</p>
<p>“Sorry, I—fuck.”</p>
<p>“That’s fine,” Tom says, tugging Edward closer to him. “I don’t mind.”</p>
<p>“That’s good, I—”</p>
<p>“Only you should get that,” Tom says. He reaches into Edward’s back pocket, smooth as anything, and it’s not until Tom peeks over Edward’s shoulder that Edward realizes what he’s doing. What he’s done. “<em>Aubergine</em> probably wants to know what you’re up to tonight, shall I tell him?”</p>
<p>“Oh <em>fuck</em>,” Edward says. “I—my roommate, he, uh, changed—” Only...only it hadn’t been Sol that had changed his contact information in Edward’s phone, then, had it? It had been Edward, dick-drunk and fucked out and lying on Sol’s bed in a puddle of his own come, with Sol’s drying on the small of his back. It had been fucking hilarious then, they’d both laughed their asses off. Sol had bent in to kiss him, tasting like beer and the cigar he’d been smoking, and Edward hadn’t minded, he hadn’t minded at all even though he’d said—and he just never got around to changing the display name, and now—and now—</p>
<p>“’Ello,” Tom says. “Mmm, Edward? He’s just here.”</p>
<p>“Shite,” Sol rumbles in his ear when Tom passes the phone over, and Edward <em>hates</em> the way it makes arousal curl up the back of his spine. “Answering your phone now, is he?”</p>
<p>“Uh, hi. Sol. My roommate, Sol.” Christ, Edward’s face is going to burn off his fucking skull. It doesn’t matter how dim it is back here, there’s way too much light, and too much knowledge in Tom’s eyes. “I, uh, hi.”</p>
<p>“Smooth,” Sol says, in that manner he gets when he’s had just enough to drink for his accent to really start coming out, but when he’ll still fuck Edward—</p>
<p>—fucking <em>stop it</em>, holy fuck, Edward needs to get things under control. This is fine. It’s fine. He’s here to pick up somebody, to pick up—to pick up Tom, hopefully, which he can definitely still do—ah, no, he can’t, not when he’s thinking about Sol’s fucking hand on his back instead of Tom’s fingers in his beltloop. He can’t fucking do this right now. He’s going to die of embarrassment. Look how gorgeous Tom is. Look at how fucking <em>stunning</em> Tom is, and here’s Edward, stewing in his own shame over the way Sol’s voice ripples down his spine and the careful way Tom is watching him, like any moment the facade is going to fall away, and Edward will be exposed for exactly the mess he is—hard and sweating and incapable of keeping it together for more than an hour at a stretch.</p>
<p>(It’s your hookup, or your roommate, Edward. The fuck’s it gonna be?)</p>
<p>“—bombed out for the evening, probably head home in a bit, just asking if you wanted a round, but I can hear—”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Edward blurts. “Yeah, I—I’ll be right up, I’ll—yeah.”</p>
<p>There’s a dead pause on the other end of the line.</p>
<p>Tom’s eyebrows are raised, his eyes wide.</p>
<p>“You’re a fucking idiot, Little,” Sol says on the other end, and then, before Edward has so much as taken a breath, there’s a <em>click</em>, and he’s hung up.</p>
<p>Edward takes his mobile away from his ear. Stares at the screen. At the fucking aubergine emoji. He has no idea why they ever thought that was funny or why the fuck he hadn’t changed it, Sol pays him <em>rent</em>, for fuck’s sake—</p>
<p>Tom is still watching him.</p>
<p>(His fingers aren’t in Edward’s belt loop anymore, and Edward isn’t sure when he pulled back.)</p>
<p>“I’m the worst—”</p>
<p>“Nah,” Tom says, voice cool. “It’s fine.”</p>
<p>“No, it’s.” Edward swallows. “Sol and I are—it’s just, he’s here picking up other people too. We just—touch base, at the end of the night.” The back of Edward’s neck is so hot it feels like he’s burning alive. “Either, uh. Both of us home with each other, or both of us home with dates, Sol was just—checking in. I, uh. I know how this looks, I know I look like a fucking liar or a cheat, I swear to god I’m not, I’m just...”</p>
<p>“A mess?” Tom offers.</p>
<p>“A mess,” Edward admits, relieved. Stares at Tom’s feet for a moment, and then glances up at his face. “I’d still, uh. If you’re interested.”</p>
<p>“Is it serious?” Tom asks. “With your roommate?”</p>
<p>(It would be easiest to lie. He should just lie. It’s just that he already told Tom he wasn’t a liar.)</p>
<p>“...I don’t know,” Edward admits.</p>
<p>Tom makes a face. “You should think about maybe sorting that out a bit.”</p>
<p>“I—”</p>
<p>“I’m here most weekends. If it’s not serious, you should be free next Friday, yeah?”</p>
<p>God, his eyes are like ice, and his smile is just as beautiful as it was before Edward’s fucking phone rang.</p>
<p>“I can—yeah, I—Friday would be wonderful,” Edward says. And then he forges forward, like the fucking idiot he is, because he’s still hard and he still wants Tom, he just—god, if someone could rewind time, if he could have just turned his fucking phone off, if he could just—get his head straight for five fucking minutes, he could—be less of a pathetic arsehole about the whole thing. Could actually be the kind of hookup Tom deserves. He knows he should shut his fucking mouth until he’s a better person, but if he lets Tom go now, he’ll never see him again, and Edward desperately, desperately wants to see him again. He grits his teeth, and commits. “Can I, uh. Can I still have your number?”</p>
<p>(Hates himself.)</p>
<p>“Sure,” Tom says. He takes Edward’s phone out of Edward’s hand, taps in his digits. Hands the phone back. “Maybe I’ll see you next week, Edward.”</p>
<p><em>Maybe</em>.</p>
<p>Fuck.</p>
<p><em>Fuck</em>.</p>
<p>🍒</p>
<p>Edward gets his cigarette lit on the fourth try, inhales the smoke and holds it, lets the cigarette burn between his fingers while he grinds the heels of his hands into his eyes. Fuck, fuck, <em>fuck</em>. He’s such a fucking <em>idiot</em>. Tom is easily the most beautiful man he’s seen at the bar in fucking months <em>and</em> he was actually interested. And it’s no loss to Tom, he’ll have his pick of anyone he wants, but for one blinding moment, he wanted Edward, and Edward had fucked it up.</p>
<p>It’s just, he knew he should have sorted out the fucking mess with Sol ages ago. No, he never should have fucking <em>started</em>, he’d been clear right from the beginning, he’d been very fucking clear that Sol was just...going to have to deal with the fact that Edward doesn’t do relationships or anything other than bar pickups, that it’s <em>his</em> apartment, and he’ll slut around it if he likes, that all he wanted was somebody else to pick up part of the rent because otherwise the room was going unused, and it was far too easy for Edward to just slip into sleeping during the day and staying up all night. A roommate was a perfect solution, it’s just that he hadn’t considered that Sol would share Edward’s propensity for walking around in sweats and nothing else. He hadn’t considered that they’d be in each other’s spaces all the time, hadn’t considered Sol going from the bathroom to his bedroom wearing only a towel, or the way Sol puts his fingers on Edward’s lower back when Edward spaces out in front of the fridge trying to decide what he’s going to eat—</p>
<p>Edward exhales a shaky stream of smoke into the dark alley.</p>
<p>Only it isn’t exactly Sol that’s the problem, is it.</p>
<p>It’s Edward. Edward, and the fact that he’s just as susceptible to ice-blue eyes and a gorgeous smile as he is to big hands and a scruffy beard. Edward, and the part where he’s perfectly happy not defining anything because he <em>likes</em> this, he likes picking up strangers at the bar and fucking them loud enough for Sol to hear through the wall, he <em>likes</em> the part where Sol will slip into Edward’s shower after he’s hustled his hookup out the door, he likes the way Sol insists on keeping his plants on the shelf above Edward’s desk so that he’s always reaching up past Edward to water them, and his dick is <em>right there</em>.</p>
<p>And Edward is...well, Edward is just gonna keep being the problem here. The thing with Sol isn’t a small mess. It’s a huge mess, a mess that has consumed most of Edward’s weeks, and almost all of his weekends, it’s a mess that’s expanded from Sol’s bedroom through to Edward’s, and grown to encompass the shower and the living room and the kitchen and the hours between two and four in the morning when Edward can’t sleep, and the early mornings when Sol comes home from practice reeking of sweat with grass stains on his clothes, and every single hookup that Edward has had for the last…ugh. For fuck’s sake, Sol had gone home at Christmas, and Edward had brought someone back to the flat, and then sent them packing two hours later when it was clear that nothing was getting accomplished, and how the fuck is he supposed to sort any of that out?</p>
<p>(The fuck is he supposed to admit any of it to Tom without promptly dying of shame?)</p>
<p>
  <em>Hey, it’s always been a fantasy of mine to leave the door open so my roommate can wander in while we’re fucking, do you mind?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Hey, who do you figure’s topping in the next room? What did you think of the guy Sol brought home?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Before we get out of here, is it alright if I introduce you to someone?</em>
</p>
<p>Edward takes another drag on his cigarette, leans his head back against the brick. The alley is damp, and it’s cold where Edward is standing, out of the light. He can hear the pulse of the club coming through the walls. He should get back in there. Try again. Apologize to Tom for being a fucking idiot, because Sol was definitely right about that, Edward is. Edward really, really is.</p>
<p>He could try picking up somebody else. He would probably succeed, if he kept his mouth mostly shut. But anybody he picks up won’t be Tom.</p>
<p>Fuck, he might as well just head home.</p>
<p>No, he should—he should call it quits on the thing with Sol, and <em>then </em>he should head home.</p>
<p>(If he wanted to call it quits on the thing with Sol, he would have done it fucking months ago. But he doesn’t <em>want</em> to. It’s just that he wants Tom, too.)</p>
<p>
  <em>Is it serious?</em>
</p>
<p>“Fuck me,” Edward mutters. He takes another drag on his cigarette. Pulls out his phone. Opens up his texts, finger hovering over the screen.</p>
<p>(He’s not good with words. There’s no way he’s going to be able to text Sol anything that sounds coherent, and anything he sends is just going to derail Sol’s night.)</p>
<p>Edward takes a last drag on his cigarette, drops it into a puddle. Thinks better of it immediately, bends and picks it up, tosses it in the ashtray before wiping his hand on his jeans.</p>
<p>There. Fine.</p>
<p>
  <em>Edward: u still there?</em>
</p>
<p>It’s not fucking complicated. He’s just going to—talk it out. With Sol. Fix it. Get it sorted. He’s a better person than this. He can—he can be a better person than this. Regardless of Tom.</p>
<p>(He owes it to Sol, too. And maybe it’d be nice to be able to look at himself in the mirror in the morning.)</p>
<p>It’ll be fine.</p>
<p>
  <em>aubergine: upstairs</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Edward: k</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Edward: stay there</em>
</p>
<p>Edward glances at the door back to the club. Lights another cigarette.</p>
<p>He’ll go in a minute.</p>
<p>🍒</p>
<p>Edward pays for another round of drinks. Double rum and coke for him, the fancy beer for Sol that he’s always claiming he can’t afford. Keeps his head down as he walks upstairs so he doesn’t accidentally get trapped into a conversation with anyone. Realizes halfway up the stairs that he never told Sol <em>why</em> he was asking where Sol was, and it’s entirely possible that Sol has left, or picked somebody up, or any number of things. Fuck. <em>Fuck</em>.</p>
<p>(He’d had half an idea, midway through his second cigarette, that maybe he could just find Tom again, tell Tom he was absolutely going to sort it all out and have it done by next week, and it’s not too late for them to catch a cab—but Tom doesn’t seem like the sort who wants to listen to a bunch of words Edward is saying when there’s been no actions behind them.)</p>
<p>Edward hesitantly raises his head at the top of the stairs, glances around and—</p>
<p>—there. Sol, sitting at one of the booths, with his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees.</p>
<p>He’s alone.</p>
<p>Edward shoulders his way over, sets the drinks down on the low table in front of Sol next to the rest of the empties. Slides in next to him. “Brought you a round.”</p>
<p>Sol glances at him. Blinks. Runs his hand back through his hair.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry about before,” Edward says in a rush. “I was—never mind, it doesn’t matter, I just. I thought we should. Talk.”</p>
<p>“I—”</p>
<p>“I know I said I didn’t want to—”</p>
<p>“No, it’s—”</p>
<p>“—but maybe that’s not all that fair to you,” Edward finishes, and then he reaches down to the table for his own drink, and finally realizes.</p>
<p>It’s not just beer bottles on the table in front of him. There’s another glass there too, tall and mostly ice.</p>
<p>“…you’re with someone,” Edward says, face going hot.</p>
<p>Tozer grimaces. “Yeah, mate, it’s, uh. Complicated, a bit.”</p>
<p>“Fuck, sorry, I—”</p>
<p>“No,” Tozer says, putting his hand on Edward’s knee. “Stay a sec, I was just—”</p>
<p>(Edward should move away. He doesn’t.)</p>
<p>Someone slides into the booth across from Sol, sets a couple more drinks down on the table.</p>
<p>Edward moves to get up, but Sol just tightens his grip on Edward’s knee.</p>
<p>“A second,” he murmurs. “Ned, come on.”</p>
<p>Edward scowls, glances across the table to see two tall glasses of the signature cocktail, with two cherries in each.</p>
<p>Slowly raises his gaze, and looks Tom directly in the eye.</p>
<p>“Hi,” Tom says.</p>
<p>Edward swallows. Looks at Sol. Looks at Tom. “I’ll, uh. Go.”</p>
<p>“Don’t,” Sol says. His hand is still on Edward’s knee. “You said you had something to say.”</p>
<p>Across the booth, Tom shifts. Spreads his legs, just a bit.</p>
<p>Edward can’t think.</p>
<p>(Edward <em>has</em> to think. He wants to prove to Tom...to Sol...to <em>himself</em> that he can be a better person.)</p>
<p>“Right,” Edward says. He swallows again. Concentrates. Picks up his glass and swallows half of it back, blurts out something completely unrelated. “You don’t...you didn’t already know each other? Before tonight?”</p>
<p>Tom shakes his head. “Ran into him at the bar. We’ve been talking.” He blinks those big blue eyes of his. “About you, mostly.  For somebody that sounded an awful lot like a liar…”</p>
<p>“It’s the chops,” Sol says. “They make him look sketchy.”</p>
<p>Tom’s mouth turns up in a fraction of a smile. “Didn’t say he <em>looked</em> sketchy. Just that he sounded that way.”</p>
<p>Edward runs his hand back through his hair. “I, uh, yeah. I’m not good at...talking.”</p>
<p>Sol snorts. Cracks his neck. “You can say that again.” He leans across the low table toward Tom. “You know the first thing he said to me, when I answered his roommate advert?”</p>
<p>Tom leans forward, elbows on his knees and chin on his interlaced fingers. “Tell me.”</p>
<p>“<em>I don’t fuck my roommates, so if that’s what you’re after, go live somewhere else.</em>”</p>
<p>Tom’s eyes light up, and Edward’s face burns hot.</p>
<p>“That’s not what I sound like,” he mutters. “And I’m sure that wasn’t the first thing.”</p>
<p>Sol squeezes his knee. “The very first.”</p>
<p>“He have a reputation for that?” Tom asks curiously. “Fucking his roommates?”</p>
<p>“Fuck if I know,” Sol says. “Never heard it if he did. It was a nice place, in a nice location, and it didn’t cost that much, and if there was gonna be a rotating string of fuckbuddies, whatever, I could put earbuds in.”</p>
<p>Tom raises an eyebrow. “How long did the earbuds last?”</p>
<p>“Till the first time he bottomed,” Sol says. Squeezes Edward’s knee again, and then reaches forward and picks up one of the cocktails, pops the cherries into his mouth. “Couldn’t ignore that, fuckin’ hot as hell. The <em>noises</em> he makes—and you’d never guess it to hear the man top.”</p>
<p>Tom looks at Edward sidelong, like he’s measuring him, recategorizing him somewhere different from where he’d originally been put.</p>
<p>Edward swallows. Opens his mouth. Closes it.</p>
<p>“You know where this is going if I keep talking,” Sol says, voice low. “You maybe better say your piece, Ned.”</p>
<p>Edward exhales. Turns to the side so he’s looking directly at Sol. (Tries to ignore Tom, who is just as handsome as ever, and is watching both of them carefully with an expression on his face that looks just a touch too interested to be comprised completely of curiosity.) “I’m sorry,” he says.</p>
<p>Sol leans back, spreads his legs. “For what?”</p>
<p>Edward bites his lip. Stares at Sol’s feet, at the stupid battered combat boots that he wears everywhere except to rugby practice. “For fucking you instead of talking about it.”</p>
<p>“For…”</p>
<p>“...pretty much the whole time we’ve been living together.”</p>
<p>Silence. Edward can’t bear to look at either of them, because it feels like looking at either of them is just gonna fuck him over. It’d serve him right if they hooked up without him, really, after the absolute mess he’d made of everything—</p>
<p>“There,” Sol purrs, and his hand is in Edward’s hair, ruffling the back of his head. “That wasn’t that hard, was it? See, Joppie—he just has to writhe in his own self-loathing a bit before he gives, that’s all.”</p>
<p>Edward straightens, shrugs Sol’s hand off his head. “Joppie?”</p>
<p>“Thomas Jopson,” Tom says. His eyes glance up and down the length of Edward’s body. “You and I never quite made it to last names, did we.”</p>
<p>Edward shakes his head. Picks up his drink and takes another swallow of it, lets the alcohol burn down, recenter him in his body. Sets his glass back down.</p>
<p>“Ah,” Sol says to Tom. “So you didn’t get my joke, then.”</p>
<p>“Oh god,” Edward says, because Sol’s commentary on the size of Edward’s dick has been an ongoing thing since the first time Edward had dropped trou, and Sol had just—stared, for a moment, before drawling <em>warn a man in advance, Little, you’ll be half an hour warming me up to bottom for that thing</em>.</p>
<p>Sol chuckles.</p>
<p>Edward shakes his head, cheeks hot. Picks his glass back up again, and drains it. “Please tell me a joke about my dick wasn’t the first thing out of your mouth, Sol,” he mutters.</p>
<p>“Second,” Sol says smugly. “I introduced myself first.”</p>
<p>“Oh god,” Edward repeats. His face is still burning hot. He glances over at Tom, gets lost in Tom’s eyes again before remembering—he can’t have this.</p>
<p>“I mean, if that’s what I was packing,” Sol says, “I’d open with that. No reason your track record should be <em>that</em> much worse than mine.”</p>
<p>Edward looks over at Tom, like Tom is going to save him—but Tom’s not looking at him. Tom’s eyes are fixed between Edward’s legs, his teeth just barely dug into his bottom lip.</p>
<p>Edward glances over at Sol, and Sol is still—relaxed, and smug, watching Tom carefully, even though Tom is blatantly checking out Edward.</p>
<p>“Track record’s fine,” Edward manages.</p>
<p>“Don’t let him bullshit you, Tom,” Sol says. “You line up any of his hookups against any of mine, and I come out ahead by a long shot.” He raises an eyebrow, looks Tom up and down. “Present company excepted, of course.”</p>
<p>“Kind of you,” Tom says dryly. “<em>Am</em> I one of his hookups? Or one of yours?”</p>
<p>“You’re still here,” Sol says. It’s not belligerent, not yet, but there’s that little blustery, suspicious edge to his voice that he gets after he’s been drinking. It’s the same tone of voice he had when he kissed Edward on the lips for the first time, and had then drawn back, peering at Edward for a long series of breaths before eventually settling for shoving awkwardly at Edward’s shoulder, demanding <em>so?</em> like he was expecting Edward to punch him, and wanted to get the first hit in.</p>
<p>(Edward hadn’t punched him. Edward had kissed him back, because by that point, the <em>no kissing</em> thing had seemed just as stupid as <em>no getting completely naked</em> and <em>the</em> <em>lights stay off</em>, which had been quick to be taken out of commission once <em>no fucking</em> had disintegrated in a horrible, heady, unintended hookup on an extremely stormy evening when the power had gone out. There’d been nothing else to do, and it had turned out that <em>each other</em> had been such a fantastic use of their time that they’d hooked up again the following morning, after the power had come back on, and there was really no excuse on either side.)</p>
<p>“I like to keep my options open,” Tom says. He reaches for his drink, pops the cherries into his mouth and chews them slowly, with great delight visible on his face, delight that makes him even more gorgeous and ethereal than he was on the lower floor. “And now that I know everything with the two of you is above board…”</p>
<p>(God, Edward could watch Tom’s face forever, the fine line of his jaw, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles.)</p>
<p>“...oh shit,” Sol says. And then, a moment later. “You fuckin’ serious?”</p>
<p>“I’m thinking about it,” Tom says mildly. “Edward’s more my type, but I like a bit of jock when I can get my hands on it. You have that look about you.”</p>
<p>“Rugby, aye,” Sol says proudly. “Part of the campus team.”</p>
<p>Edward blinks. Swallows. Reaches for his drink, sucks it back except there’s no liquid left in it anymore, and he slurps awkwardly at ice.</p>
<p>Without speaking, Tom pushes his drink across the table toward Edward, at the same time as Sol does the same. Tom’s eyes light up, but he doesn’t say anything, just watches and waits.</p>
<p>Edward reaches for Tom’s drink, takes a polite sip out of the opposite side from where Tom has been drinking. The drink is mixed strong, a cacophony of different sorts of liquor splashed with fruit juice, and Edward winces, swallows, pushes the drink back toward Tom. Reaches for Sol’s thigh without thinking, knocks his closed fist gently into the meat of it.</p>
<p>“More for me,” Sol says gruffly, taking his drink back, and downing most of it.</p>
<p>“So I was thinking,” Tom says. “That we’re in a bit of a unique situation for the night. The two of you are—” And here, he looks meaningfully at Edward, in a way that makes the back of Edward’s neck hot, and then at Sol, in a way that only makes Sol smirk. “—<em>familiar</em> with each other. You’re both looking to pull tonight, but you don’t mind hooking up with each other.”</p>
<p><em>Oh</em>, Edward thinks, somewhere in the back of his mind where he’s shoved all the fantasies he didn’t think would ever get filled, covered them over with dirt where he does his best not to think about them, except all the times he thinks about them with his hand down his sweats, listening to Sol fuck in the next room, knowing that all the bravado, all the talking, all the <em>that’s it, pretty boy, get your knee up by your chest like that, let me fuck you nice and deep</em> is absolute bullshit, and only for Edward’s benefit, because when Edward and Sol fuck, Sol is dead quiet except for heavy breathing, and that occasional gut-punch heavy suck of air he takes when they've taken the time to open him up for Edward to top, and Edward is rubbing his dick steadily against Sol's prostate, shocking the smug look off his face. If Edward cleans the dirt off that spot, unearths the things he’s locked up and buried—if he’s got the right of what Tom is looking for here—</p>
<p>“And the last time I tried this, things got weird,” Tom admits. “Not a great time for any of us—but this won’t be weird for either of you, now, will it.”</p>
<p>“Nope,” Sol says confidently.</p>
<p>Edward shakes his head. It won’t be a problem, it won’t be a problem at all, he’s been aching for it since the very first night Sol had moved in and then popped out to the bar around the corner to come home with someone just like he was trying to prove a point, like he was trying to prove that he didn’t even <em>want</em> to fuck Edward in the first place. It hadn’t prevented Edward from sitting in the living room, trying to concentrate on grading, with his cock hard and his ears burning, the squeak of Sol’s shitty bed a steady, regular punctuation to all the work that Edward <em>wasn’t</em> doing.</p>
<p>“Come on, Ned,” Sol says. “You wanna take him home with us?”</p>
<p>Edward drags his eyes from his empty drink up to Tom, who is still the most stunningly gorgeous man at the bar, and who Edward wants, rather badly.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Edward says, keeping eye contact with Tom. “Yeah, I fucking well do.”</p>
<p>Tom grins. “Ta,” he says brightly. “I have test results here, if you want to see them—”</p>
<p>Simultaneously, both Edward and Sol pull out their phones.</p>
<p>🍒</p>
<p>“Well,” Tom remarks. “That was thrilling. Never been evicted from a cab before.” He glances up at the night sky, considering, and then puts his jacket on, leaves it unbuttoned.</p>
<p>“Fucking hell,” Sol grouses. His hand is down the front of his trousers, adjusting his dick. “Christ, don’t see why he couldn’ta just looked the other way on that one.”</p>
<p>Edward swallows. Nods. He can still taste Tom’s lips on his, that slight tang of fruit juice and the press of Tom’s tongue that Edward feels like a phantom sensation. God, he wants to press Tom up against the closest tree, gets his hands under Tom’s shirt, trace out his spine. Let Tom kiss him again, because damn, Tom is very, very good at it.</p>
<p>“C’mon,” Sol says. “Flat’s this way.”</p>
<p>Edward falls into step behind Sol, stops almost immediately when he realizes that Tom isn’t following them. He looks back. Tom is still standing on the street, hands in his pockets, weight back on his heels as he casually looks around.</p>
<p>Edward frowns. There’s really nothing to see—they’re about a half hour walk from the flat, in one of the residential areas. There’s a park off to the side of the road, a couple of maintenance buildings next to it. Park isn’t that well-lit, and it’s pretty much dark now. There’s nobody around, no traffic, no street noise. Even the air is still.</p>
<p>Tom turns his head, meets Edward’s eyes. Tilts his head toward the park, the shadowed buildings.</p>
<p>Edward swallows. Turns, gestures for Sol to follow. Hears the click of Sol’s lighter, but doesn’t look back, because he’s too fixated on Tom, the relaxed set to Tom’s shoulders, the faux-casual way he’s moving.</p>
<p>“Speaking of looking the other way,” Tom says. “Who’s got the better refractory period of the two of you?” His voice is casual, but the streetlight glances off his face when he turns, and Edward can read a nervous energy in his face that Edward wants to lick away. He wants to kiss the questions from Tom's mouth, wants to—</p>
<p>There’s a long inhalation from behind him, and then Sol answers in a cloud of smoke that Edward can just barely see in his peripheral vision. “Edward. He’s not particular as to whether he’s hard or not either, if you wanna keep going between.”</p>
<p>“Christ,” Edward mutters. His face is hot, his nipples hard, jeans tight.</p>
<p>“That settles that, then,” Tom says. He glances at Sol. “You wanna watch?”</p>
<p>“Fuck yeah,” Sol says. He exhales more smoke, offers his lit cigarette to Edward.</p>
<p>Edward takes it, pulls in a quick drag, and then passes the cigarette to Tom, who breathes in, takes the cigarette from his mouth and glances at it, and then goes in again for a second inhale before passing it back to Sol.</p>
<p>The place Tom leads them is in the shadow of the maintenance building, trees in front of him and cool brick at his back, prickling through the fabric of his tshirt. Tom is on him almost immediately, hands on either side of Edward’s ribs, and lips lightly gliding over Edward’s neck, down to his shoulder.</p>
<p>Edward closes his eyes, hyper-conscious of Sol, looming just at the edge of the building watching, the cherry of his cigarette flaring as he inhales. Tom is heavier than he looks, pressing Edward up against the wall, and he’s not wasting any time, either—both his hands are underneath Edward’s shirt, and his nose is nudging at the edge of Edward’s jaw.</p>
<p>“You like getting your dick sucked?” Tom asks, his voice low.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Edward says breathlessly.</p>
<p>(A few feet away from them, Sol chuckles. Shifts his weight, gravel scraping under his boots.)</p>
<p>“You do, huh?” Tom asks. He presses his lips to Edward’s neck, and then slides down Edward’s body, mouthing at Edward’s belly through his shirt before Edward has even realized he’s moving.</p>
<p>“Ah, fuck,” Edward breathes. “Yeah, I—Sol’s laughing because I—said we wouldn’t, for the longest time, I did, I said—oh, <em>christ</em>.”</p>
<p>Tom is nuzzling Edward’s dick through his jeans, and Edward is suddenly, painfully aware of how aroused he is, how his dick is leaking into his underwear already, all his focus narrowed down to the careful, gentle way Tom is rubbing his cheek along the length of Edward’s erection. “Why don’t you pull that out for me,” Tom says softly.</p>
<p>Edward nods. Swallows. Unbuttons his jeans with shaking hands, shoves them down just far enough that he can—</p>
<p>“Oh,” Tom says. “Wish I was seeing those in the light.”</p>
<p>“He got slutty underwear on?” Sol asks. “And don’t worry, we can parade him around the flat in them for you if you want.” He inhales, exhales. “You’ll want to see him shirtless, too.”</p>
<p>“Yes, I do,” Tom says seriously. He sits back on his heels, absently grazing his fingers over his jeans as he stares up at Edward. “We can head to the flat if you want…”</p>
<p>“I want this,” Edward says. “Sorry, got distracted.”</p>
<p>“Blood’s all in his dick.”</p>
<p>“Shut it, Sol.” Edward tugs at his jock, hauls his dick out over the waistband, shudders as the cool air hits it. It’s a mess already, he’s a mess—there’s a wet spot on his underwear, cold against his thigh, and his balls are pulled up tight to his body from the sudden change in temperature.</p>
<p>“<em>Oh</em>,” Tom says.</p>
<p>“Told you,” Sol drawls from behind them. “Weren’t fucking around with the dick jokes.”</p>
<p>“Lord,” Tom says softly.</p>
<p>Edward covers his face with his hands, lets the back of his head fall back against the brick. He’s conscious of the way arousal is prickling his skin, the hair on his arms, his nipples. Tries to pretend he isn’t dying to have his dick in Tom’s mouth or his arse or between his thighs or maybe just in his hand, hell, he’d take his dick in his own hand, come with both of them watching him like he’s some kind of—some kind of public spectacle, like he exists for their entertainment and nothing else, like when he’s come all over his own hand, they’ll drop notes at his feet, leave him to pick them up after, and he’ll thank them for it.</p>
<p>“Takes you at least half an hour to warm up to take that, huh?” Tom asks.</p>
<p>“Don’t bottom much,” Sol says. “Made an exception for Ned. I...make an exception.” He sighs, kicks at the gravel. “Exceptions.”</p>
<p>“Can’t blame you,” Tom says, and just as Edward is about to die from being talked <em>about</em> and not <em>to</em>, Tom is leaning forward, exhaling on Edward’s cock. “I almost regret doing this here.”</p>
<p>“You don’t have to—”</p>
<p>“I’ll need to be quick about it,” Tom continues, gazing up at Edward. “So we don’t get caught.”</p>
<p>“Want me to film it?” Sol asks from behind them.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” Edward gasps. He means to add <em>let him be</em> behind it, but doesn’t quite get there, because the words die in his throat. Because it’s not the first time Sol has asked, Edward can hear the question through the wall quite clearly, every single time, and every single time, he stops what he’s doing, stops who he’s fucking, <em>waits</em> just in case this is the time that the answer is—but it’s <em>no</em>, it’s always <em>no</em>, and he hears the mattress spring creak as Sol puts his phone away, and—</p>
<p>“Please,” Tom says emphatically. “I want Edward to be able to see it after.”</p>
<p>Gravel crunches as Sol shifts, holds out his phone. “Go on, then,” Sol says roughly. “Suck his dick.”</p>
<p>Tom leans in, brings his mouth in real close, close enough that Edward can feel it, every small inhalation and exhalation Tom makes—and then Tom glances up at him. “Quick and dirty,” he promises.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Edward manages. “Yeah, I—<em>oh</em>.”</p>
<p>His cock is in Tom’s mouth.</p>
<p>Tom is sucking his cock, his hands flat on Edward’s thighs, leaning in and pinning Edward back against the building—as though there’s anywhere else Edward wants to go, as though Edward could ever conceive of being anywhere but here.</p>
<p>“Fuck, that’s hot,” Sol says softly.</p>
<p>Edward’s breath catches, and he exhales. Whines, by accident, bites down on his own tongue in an effort to just <em>shut</em> the fuck <em>up</em>. Scrapes his palms against the brick behind him, grounds himself. Looks down at Tom’s dark hair, head bobbing. “Oh, fucking hell, Tom—I—whew, your mouth, the fucking <em>mouth</em> on you.”</p>
<p>Tom hums around his dick, pleased. His throat twitches around Edward's cock.</p>
<p>Edward shudders. Looks over at Sol, whose gaze is fixed on the screen of his phone, except as Edward glances over, Sol flicks his hazel eyes up, makes eye contact.</p>
<p>Edward shudders, pants. God, this is just—<em>fuck</em>, it’s so—</p>
<p>He looks down again. There’s a chunk of hair falling forward over Tom’s face, and Edward reaches out with shaking hands, smooths it back. Tom looks up at him, eyes bright and soft and gorgeous, his lips stretched around Edward’s cock, and Edward swallows.</p>
<p>He should have expected it from the cab, from the confident way Tom had leaned in and kissed him, firm and sensual and soft all at the same time. Of course Tom is good at this, too. Tom is amazing at everything, totally focused on Edward right now, like they’re the only two here except for the part where Sol is filming them, the part where Edward is going to be able to watch this later, the part where—oh, god, and later, maybe later Tom will sit in his lap, sit on his cock, hold Sol’s phone and watch himself suck Edward's dick, say <em>oh, yeah, that was the part where you brushed my hair out of my eyes and I fell in love with you right then</em> and, god. Fuck. <em>Fuck</em>.</p>
<p>“Not much longer,” Edward mutters.</p>
<p>“Louder for those of us in the back,” Sol says, but his breath is catching and he’s holding the camera with one hand now, his other hand—</p>
<p>“Tom,” Edward breathes, and Tom rubs his thumbs comfortingly over Edward’s thighs, presses in just that little bit further until his nose is rubbing up against Edward’s skin. “If you don’t—I’m serious, right away, Tom, Tom, I’m coming—”</p>
<p>Tom shifts his right hand to Edward’s balls, curls his fingers around them gently.</p>
<p>Edward sucks in a quick gasp of air, shudders, and comes, gritting his teeth to keep him from doing something stupid like throwing his head back, bashing it into the wall, preventing him from looking at Tom as he swallows everything back, all of Edward’s come.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” Edward breathes.</p>
<p>Tom sits back on his heels. Looks up at Edward, an impish grin on his face.</p>
<p>(He hasn’t swallowed.)</p>
<p>“Kiss ‘im,” Sol growls.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Edward says, kneeling down on the cold gravel. “Kiss me?”</p>
<p>Tom leans in, puts one hand on the side of Edward’s face. Kisses him softly, lips closed. Edward melts into it. Opens his mouth, licks at the seam of Tom’s lips.</p>
<p>Tom makes a questioning noise in the back of his throat.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Edward murmurs against his lips, his stomach in freefall. “Give it to me.”</p>
<p>Tom opens his mouth against Edward’s, tongues Edward’s come into his mouth. The taste is sharp, and there’s more of it than Edward expected. He swallows, once, and then whines into Tom’s mouth as Tom keeps kissing him deeply, his hand at the back of Edward’s head, cradling him there.</p>
<p>“So good,” Tom says, voice low and raw. “Swallow, love. That’s it.”</p>
<p>“Fuck,” Sol curses sharply, and there’s the sound of something hitting the gravel, and another whispered profanity.</p>
<p>“Oh god,” Edward whimpers. He sways into Tom when Tom pulls away, rests his head against Tom’s shoulder a moment.</p>
<p>“You alright there, Sol?” Tom asks lightly.</p>
<p>“Dropped the phone,” Sol says gruffly. “Doesn’t matter. ‘s fine.”</p>
<p>Edward takes another breath, sniffs at Tom’s neck. He smells good—a little like fresh linen, a little like the ocean. Nice shampoo. The kind of smell Edward wouldn’t mind waking up to. He tentatively reaches with his hands, lightly touches the small of Tom’s back—and when Tom doesn’t pull away, Edward sinks into him, holding him around the waist and leaning in. “Good?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Tom says softly. “You can hold me.”</p>
<p>They sit like that a moment, breathing together, before Tom clears his throat.</p>
<p>“So,” he says diplomatically. “Considering...do we need to call it a night?”</p>
<p>“No,” Edward and Sol answer in unison.</p>
<p>“We’re not far from the flat,” Sol says. He sounds oddly irritable, for reasons that Edward can’t quite grasp.</p>
<p>“Don’t wanna see me without a shirt anymore?” Edward asks softly, shifting his right hand from the small of Tom’s back around to his hip.</p>
<p>Tom presses his lips against the side of Edward’s face, tugs lightly at one muttonchop. “Course I still do.” His breath catches as Edward’s fingers drag between his legs, trace lightly over what feels like a very nice, very hard cock. “Some attention there wouldn’t go amiss either, once we relocate.”</p>
<p>“Good,” Edward says. He cups Tom’s cock, gives it a careful rub with the heel of his hand. “Wait, considering what?”</p>
<p>Tom chuckles, tips his head toward Sol.</p>
<p>Edward glances over just in time to catch Sol shaking his hand out, scowling. The moonlight glints off his wet palm.</p>
<p>“Sol,” Edward says.</p>
<p>Sol frowns, flicks his hand again. Ignores him.</p>
<p>“Tozer,” Edward says.</p>
<p>Sol looks up, brow furrowed. “Don’t you start with me,” he says, with the same belligerent expression he had on his face the first time he’d fucked Edward, and had come almost immediately after getting it in.</p>
<p>“Wasn’t going to,” Edward says softly. “C’mon. Bring your hand over here, I’ll lick you off, and we can take Tom home.”</p>
<p>Sol’s face softens a bit. “Yeah?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Edward says. “It’s good. C’mere.”</p>
<p>“Film that too,” Tom suggests. “I mean, we’ve come this far.”</p>
<p>Sol grins, then, sharp and quick. “Catch, then.” He holds his phone out in Tom’s direction, tosses it over with an easy underhand. “Let me know when you’re ready.”</p>
<p>🍒</p>
<p>Edward drops his keys in the hall outside the flat, and it hardly matters, because Sol has him shouldered up against the door, his thick thigh between Edward’s legs.</p>
<p>“So fucking hot,” Sol mutters in his ear. “Watching you get your cock sucked. You hold it together better for me, what’s he do different? I wanna know. You gotta tell me.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Tom breathes into his other ear. “What do I do differently, Edward?”</p>
<p>Edward sucks in a breath, tries to think. He’s not hard again, not yet, but his head is spinning anyways. He wants to be in the flat so, so badly. Wants to get his shirt off, struggle out of his jeans. Wants both men on him, wants to get his hands on Tom’s cock. Tom deserves something for being so good for them, for being so perfect, for sucking Edward’s cock and feeding his come back to him, for everything, really. “Keys,” he manages. “Dropped ‘em.”</p>
<p>Tom chuckles and nuzzles at Edward’s neck. “Are you going to bend down and get them?”</p>
<p>“Fuck ‘em,” Sol rumbles. “Tom. My back pocket.”</p>
<p>Edward watches Tom slide his hand around. Tips his head to the side when Sol groans, nuzzles into Edward’s neck. Brings his hand around to pet the back of Sol’s neck, the bit at the back of his head where his hair is starting to get longish, because the note on the whiteboard that says <em>haircut</em> has been up there for about three months, with no changes made and no haircut had.</p>
<p>“Here,” Tom murmurs, and he presses the keys into Sol’s hand, shifts into the space Sol was occupying as soon as Sol moves toward the door, pressing Edward back up against the wall. “Hi.”</p>
<p>“Hi,” Edward says. “Fuck, you’re pretty.”</p>
<p>Tom smiles at him. “I look prettier when I’m naked,” he says.</p>
<p>“Let’s get you naked, then,” Edward breathes.</p>
<p>“Door’s open, lads,” Sol says. There’s the sound of keys skittering across the floor. “Kicked your keys in, Ned.”</p>
<p>“Thanks,” Edward says. He waits for Tom to move toward the door, sways toward him when Tom steps back. Fuck, he’s gorgeous. His eyes are a totally different colour here than they were in the club. More green, here. That smudge of glitter that had been on his temple in the club is gone now, and good, good riddance, Edward doesn’t want anything on Tom’s body except for things that he and Sol have put there.</p>
<p>Edward follows Tom into the flat, his heart beating in his chest faster than it should, palms a bit sweaty, because what if Tom doesn’t like it, what if Tom decides it’s better to call things off, what if Tom—</p>
<p>Tom whistles, low. “Nice.” He’s looking around the flat, and Edward follows the path that his eyes take—from Sol’s rugby gear, tucked into the corner by the entrance, to the neatly organized kitchen, Edward’s mug still sitting on the counter where he’d forgotten it earlier this morning, printed and highlighted articles stacked on the table by his laptop from one of the seminar classes that Edward is in this semester, and then undergrad textbooks next to it, so he has them on hand for grading—</p>
<p>“Cleaned up this afternoon,” Sol says proudly. “While Ned was out running.”</p>
<p>Silence, for a moment. Edward becomes very conscious that they’re three men standing in a flat in the awkward transition period where they’ve had some sex already, and they’re planning to have more sex, but they just haven’t quite started yet.</p>
<p>Then Tom shrugs his jacket off his shoulders, shakes it out, and hangs it on the back of Edward’s chair.</p>
<p>(He chose <em>Edward’s</em> chair.)</p>
<p>“Well, then,” Tom says. He glances over at Sol. “You said I wanted to see Edward with his shirt off.”</p>
<p>“Yup,” Sol says. “Come on, Ned, get your shirt off.”</p>
<p>Edward’s face is hot. He bites his lip, glances at Tom. Reaches over his shoulder and tugs at his shirt, pulling it off and crumpling it up into a ball, fidgeting with the fabric between his hands. He glances over at Tom, watches the way Tom’s eyes drop to his chest, and then stay there.</p>
<p>“Oh,” Tom says. “Well, then.” He takes a step forward, and then another. Drags his fingertips up Edward’s ribs and then over the barbells through his nipples.</p>
<p>Edward shudders. Bites his lip.</p>
<p>Tom’s eyes flick up and meet his. He leans in, kisses Edward soft and slow while his fingers feel out the gold rings attached to the barbells that circle each nipple. Fuck, he’s a good kisser. He is <em>such</em> a good kisser.</p>
<p>When Tom pulls back, his eyes are hazy, and he’s got a small half-smile on his face. “Nice.”</p>
<p>“Got his tits pierced,” Sol says proudly, his voice muffled as he pulls his shirt over his head. “They’re sensitive as fuck, too, if you wanna play with ‘em. He likes it when you tug on them, real soft-like.”</p>
<p>“Jesus,” Edward mutters. His face is still burning, but it feels good, too, having both of them look at him. Having Tom look at him for the first time, having Sol look at him in that familiar way he has.</p>
<p>“Well,” Sol says, tossing his shirt on top of Edward's books. “Go on, Ned. Get the rest of your kit off.”</p>
<p>Tom shrugs his button-down shirt off, hangs it on Edward’s chair just the same as he’d done with his jacket. His nipples are visible through his undershirt. He removes his undershirt gracefully, sets it on top of the rest of his clothing, and Edward is struck by how fucking beautiful Tom is. He looks like he’ll bruise easily, like Edward could kiss a mark into him with no effort whatsoever, and he steps forward with the intention of doing exactly that, when Tom gives him a once-over, and grins at him sharply. “Hear there’s some fancy underwear in play. Too dark to see them when I was sucking you off.”</p>
<p>“Shit,” Edward mutters. “Right, yeah, I—” He fumbles at the button of his jeans, yanks them down. Stumbles his way out of them and nearly falls on his arse before Sol grabs his arm and steadies him.</p>
<p>(Sol’s stripped down to his boxers already, skin hot like it usually is, and his hand is firm on Edward's arm, like always.)</p>
<p>Tom stops in the process of removing his chinos, stares at Edward’s underwear. “Well, then. Those are hot.” He licks his lips, gestures with his hand. “Turn.”</p>
<p>Edward pats Sol’s hand, steps away from him and turns. He wants to stare at the ceiling while he does it, he <em>should</em> stare at the ceiling while he does it, but instead he watches Tom as long as he can, watches Tom watch him, tries to finishes the back half of the turn as quick as he can so he can turn back and stare at—</p>
<p>“Stop,” Tom says mildly when Edward is facing away from him.</p>
<p>Edward stops. Inhales. Waits.</p>
<p>“Sol,” Tom says. “Where’s the bedroom?”</p>
<p>“We’ll use his,” Sol rumbles. “Door on the left there.”</p>
<p>“Right,” Tom says, and then he’s standing behind Edward, his hands on Edward’s hips. “Fuck,” he breathes, low enough that only Edward can hear. “The arse on you.” Tom traces the strap of the jock, tugs it away from Edward's body and lets it snap back into place under his cheek before pressing his body against Edward’s from behind.</p>
<p>Tom is completely naked. The shaft of his hard cock is just barely rubbing against Edward's exposed arse.</p>
<p>“Gonna film again unless somebody hesitates,” Sol says. “Jopson. Yes or no?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Tom breathes against Edward’s neck, grinding his cock up against Edward.</p>
<p>“Can’t hear you.”</p>
<p>“Tell him,” Tom says softly.</p>
<p>“He says yes, Sol,” Edward manages. He can hardly think, is entirely focused on the drag of Tom's cock against his bare skin.</p>
<p>“Tell Sol I want him to film me eating your ass.”</p>
<p>“He wants.” Edward swallows. Glances over at Sol, and Sol's phone, and then brings his arm up to cover his eyes, as though he isn’t already immediately identifiable by everything from his nipples to the pink triangle tattooed on his hip to the custom underwear, which he orders from a queer company up in Soho that can easily identify him just based on the sheer volume of purchases. “You to, uh.”</p>
<p>“Speak the fuck up,” Sol says sharply.</p>
<p>Edward lifts his arm slightly, just in time to catch Sol looking at him with his eyes soft, his mouth partially open. Then Sol notices, ducks his head, reaches down to adjust his dick like he wasn’t about two seconds away from tugging on Edward’s hair and muttering something soft he won’t repeat when Edward asks.</p>
<p>“You’ve got this,” Tom murmurs into Edward’s ear. “Come on, now, love. Look into the camera nice for us, will you?” He swallows, and then says in a more normal voice, “or we can just get right to the bedroom, if you don’t want—”</p>
<p>“I do,” Edward says quickly. “I do, I—” He takes a deep breath. Puts both hands behind his head, stares into the camera on Sol’s phone. “He wants you to film him eating my ass.”</p>
<p>“Fuck me,” Sol groans. “Jesus motherfucking Christ.” He takes a great rasping breath, flicks his eyes from his phone up to where Edward and Tom are standing. Tom's hands are moving freely over Edward's body, groping and petting in turn, which would be overwhelming if he stayed in any one area, but he’s constantly moving, and the thrill of it is keeping Edward on edge. “Gonna need a minute to get the blankets stripped off the bed, grab the lube.” His eyes slide over to Edward. “Go wash up, pretty boy.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Tom whispers into Edward’s ear, and then he ducks his head, <em>bites</em> just where Edward’s neck meets his shoulder, pain and pleasure flaring and making Edward shudder. “Come join us after.”</p>
<p>“You’ll be alright?” Edward asks. He reaches over his shoulder, puts his hand on the side of Tom’s face. Realizes once he’s done it that his hand is shaking. That it’ll be visible. Tom will know, he'll see, he'll—</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Tom says. He licks a wet stripe up Edward’s palm. “Gonna be more than fine.”</p>
<p>Edward shudders. His cock throbs in his jockstrap, and Tom grinds his hardon against Edward’s arse one more time before pulling back, smacking him sharply across one cheek.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” Edward breathes.</p>
<p>Tom grins.</p>
<p>🍒</p>
<p>Edward splashes some water on his face on the way out of the bathroom, runs his hand back through his hair. The door to his bedroom is partly open, and he can hear heavy breathing on the other side. He flexes and releases his hands, pushes the door open.</p>
<p>It’s Tom. Tom is completely naked, sitting on Sol's thick thighs with his arms loosely draped over Sol’s shoulders, and his head hanging down between them. He's panting. One of Sol’s hands is casually playing with Tom’s dick, languid, loose strokes, and the other—</p>
<p>“Fucking hell, Tom,” Edward manages. “Has he got two fingers up you?”</p>
<p>“I've got three,” Sol says, an edge of wonder to his voice that Edward hasn’t heard since the time Edward deep-throated him and put a finger up Sol’s ass for the first time.</p>
<p>“Fucking sexy,” Edward says, and Tom shudders, moans softly as Sol bends his wrist, presses in at a better angle.</p>
<p>“Phone’s on your desk,” Sol says, still not lifting his head from where he’s staring at Tom’s dick—and rightfully so, it’s a fucking gorgeous dick from what Edward can see of it; slender, and wet at the tip. It looks amazing jutting out of Sol's hand. “Still running.”</p>
<p>“Good,” Edward says. He reaches for his own dick, tugs it out of his underwear and strokes it, eyes fixed on Tom, mapping out the planes of his naked body, the things Edward wants to do to him. “You just like getting fingered, Tom, or you wanna get fucked too?”</p>
<p>Tom lifts his head, looks at Edward blearily, eyes half-lidded and face pink. “Both,” he says softly. “Both is good, what about you, Edward?”</p>
<p>“Everything’s good,” Edward says honestly. “Everything is—fuck, everything is so fucking good, Tom. Sol. Both of you, it’s all—it’s all so good.”</p>
<p>“C’mere,” Sol growls, and he tugs Tom closer on his lap and there’s a blinding moment where Edward thinks—but, no, Sol and Tom both reach out to him, and Edward <em>goes</em>, shoving his underwear down so he can kick them off and come stand next to them, letting them each put an arm around his waist and tug him in close.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” Edward breathes. He pushes his fingers through the long bits of hair stuck to Sol’s neck with sweat, uses his other hand to brush Tom’s forelock back behind his ear so that it’s not in the way.</p>
<p>Sol glances up, makes eye contact with Edward, and then leans in, kisses Tom on the mouth. It’s tentative, at first, his lips closed like it’ll be a short, sweet kiss—but then Tom opens his mouth, and Sol melts into it.</p>
<p>(It makes Edward’s knees weak.)</p>
<p>“He’s good, huh?” Edward breathes, sliding his hand down Tom’s bare back, cupping his arse.</p>
<p>“So good,” Sol says, his voice gone rough. “Can’t taste you anymore, though, Ned. Thought I’d be able to taste you.”</p>
<p>“I’ll hold it—for you,” Tom says, fucking himself on Sol’s fingers, the colour high in his face. “Next time.” His breath catches, and he grabs at Edward’s hip, holds himself there for a moment before grinding down against Sol again. “Spit Ned’s come back in your face, yeah, Sol?”</p>
<p>“<em>Fuck</em>,” Sol swears emphatically.</p>
<p>“Hold still,” Edward murmurs. Slides his hand under Tom, feels out Sol’s thick fingers, the careful way he’s got them overlapped, the exact way Edward prefers—and there’s plenty of lube, enough for Edward to rub his index finger against the curve of Sol’s palm, and then carefully slide it upwards, along the length of Sol’s fingers. He means to just—feel out Tom’s rim, except it’s so hot and slick that Edward presses, just lightly, with the tip of his index finger, and Tom turns and looks at him and smiles, rocks his hips, <em>relaxes</em>, and Edward just—slides his finger in alongside Sol’s.</p>
<p>Tom is wet and tight, and Edward’s head is spinning.</p>
<p>“What do you think,” Tom says. “Can you wait for me to eat your ass, Edward?”</p>
<p>Edward’s already nodding, but Tom is still talking.</p>
<p>“Can you give me your cock first? Do you think I’m ready for your big thick cock?”</p>
<p>“Is that—” Sol starts, and then he shifts his fingers against Edward’s. “Oh, fuck that’s—fuck, Edward, that’s your finger, you’ve got—you’ve got your finger in him too, I—Christ, okay, I. This won’t be a problem. Refractory period done, let’s go. I’m ready for—god, whatever. Whatever you want. Either of you. Both. I don’t care.”</p>
<p>Edward’s eyes drop to Sol’s cock at the same time as Tom’s do, and sure enough, Sol’s starting to harden again in his boxers.</p>
<p><em>Well then</em>. Edward grins, presses a kiss to the top of Tom’s head, and eases his finger out, tugs at Sol’s hair with his other hand. “Bed?”</p>
<p>Tom whimpers as Sol pulls his fingers out, grabs onto Edward to steady himself.</p>
<p>“That’s right,” Edward says. “I got you.” He helps Tom up off Sol’s lap, kisses his mouth. And maybe Sol couldn’t taste Edward in Tom’s mouth, but Edward can taste Sol on Tom, and it’s fucking intoxicating. He drops his hand to Tom’s cock, presses it up against Tom’s stomach and grinds the heel of his hand against it before starting to stroke it, long and slow. “What do you need?” he asks. “Tell me what you want Sol and I to do for you.” He squeezes Tom’s cock. Fuck, he’s so hard it must be near painful, but it doesn’t look as though he’s in pain at all, he just looks—smug, and aroused, and fucking handsome as all hell.</p>
<p>Tom glances at Sol, and so does Edward, just in time to watch Sol shove his boxers down, step out of them. He’s about half-hard, and Edward’s mouth waters. Fuck, he never gets to see Sol’s cock at anything less than a full erection, and he’s fucking gorgeous like this too. He doesn’t know whether he wants to rub his face in Sol’s crotch, or whether he wants to watch Tom do the same. Edward glances back at Tom to see if he’s appreciating it too—and oh, hell, he <em>is</em>.</p>
<p>Tom raises his eyebrows. “Look at the thighs on you. That the rugby?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Sol says. “Keeps me fit.” He pats Edward’s tattoo gently, gives him a bit of a shove. “On the bed, both of you.”</p>
<p>The comforter has been stripped off, folded nicely and set in the corner of the room. King bed, crisp dark gray sheets, and all the room that he and Tom need to play. Tom grabs Edward’s forearms, tugs him back onto the bed, pulling Edward on top of him.</p>
<p>God, Tom is fucking beautiful. His hard cock is against Edward’s, and Edward grinds into him, buries his head in Tom’s shoulder. Tom’s hands are on his nipples, first rubbing the piercings, and then gently tugging, and Edward whines, ruts up against Tom’s cock again.</p>
<p>“So we were talking,” Tom says breathlessly. “And Sol said—earlier, he’d said you didn’t mind—doing stuff between orgasms.”</p>
<p>“‘S right,” Edward says. He reaches for Tom’s cock, strokes it. “Don’t mind at all.”</p>
<p>“You like your ass eaten when you’re soft?”</p>
<p>“Hell yeah,” Edward says, voice low. “I like my ass eaten all the time.”</p>
<p>“That so?” Sol remarks. He sounds further away from the bed again, but Edward doesn’t look over at him, <em>can’t</em> look over at him—not when Tom’s eyes are still wide, a parody of innocence that’s completely undone by the pride in his smile, the glint of his teeth, not when Edward is blushing so hard he’s sure he’s bright red, because he’s never admitted that before, because nobody’s ever <em>asked</em>...and now there’s Tom.</p>
<p>“How about getting fucked?” Tom asks slyly. “You like dick when you’re soft?”</p>
<p>Edward’s breath catches, and he hangs his head, exhales and then takes a deep breath, tries to get hold of himself. Glances up at Tom, who is propped up on his elbows, face serious, and that piece of hair fallen forward over his cheek again. “Yeah,” he says, voice rough. “Yeah, I, uh, yeah. I like dick when I’m soft. I like being fucked like that.” He glances over at Sol, who’s standing at the side of the bed, idly stroking his mostly-hard cock. He’s got his phone back in his hand, watching Tom and Edward through the screen, though he glances up when Edward looks over, winks.</p>
<p>“Perfect,” Tom says. He sits up and presses his lips to Edward, his mouth soft and open, and then rolls over till he’s lying on his stomach, underneath Edward.</p>
<p>“What—”</p>
<p>And then Tom arches his bum up, rubs against Edward’s cock. There are streaks of lube shining on his arse from where Sol had been sloppy about fingering him open earlier, and Edward groans. “Oh, god, now? You want—you’ll let me fuck you right now?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Tom says, breathless. “Long as you want. Fuck me as long as you want.”</p>
<p>Edward sits back on his heels, palms Tom’s arse. Glances up at Sol, and reflexively catches the lube bottle seconds before it hits him in the face. His hand is shaking as he coats his fingers, drags them down Tom’s crack, carefully slips them in—and, oh, Sol’s fingers are bigger than his, and Sol has prepped Tom well.</p>
<p>“That’s good,” Tom breathes underneath him. “Fuck me.”</p>
<p>His arse clenches around Edward’s fingers, and Edward shivers, rotates his hand and curls his fingers to rub at Tom’s prostate to orient himself to it before pulling back out again. Edward coats his cock in lube, steadies it with his wet hand. Almost reaches around for Tom, and then thinks better of it. “Do you want, uh. Should I touch you during?”</p>
<p>“Hey,” Tom is saying to Sol. “Come sit on the bed like that, yeah. I got you.” He glances back over his shoulder, rubs his forearm against the side of his face in an attempt to put his hair back where it belongs. “Can touch if you want,” he says, “but don’t finish me off.” His grin is bright and wide. “Got plans for you, don’t we, Sol?”</p>
<p>“Hell yeah,” Sol says, settling against the head of the bed, spreading his legs.</p>
<p>Edward leans forward, pauses, the head of his cock rubbing against Tom’s hole. “You have…”</p>
<p>Sol clears his throat. Ducks his head so he’s looking down at the phone again. “Get your dick in his ass, Little.”</p>
<p>(Sol’s not got his head ducked far enough to hide his smile, or his dimple, but Edward appreciates the effort.)</p>
<p>Edward splays his dry hand out over Tom’s lower back. “Alright,” he says softly. “Here.” And he very carefully leans in, presses his cock inside Tom.</p>
<p>Fucking hell. Tom is tight around him, spreads his knees apart without prompting, presses his chest to the bed and arches his back, and Edward keeps sliding in, slow and careful, watching the way Tom’s rim stretches around the width of his cock.</p>
<p>“You’re doing so good,” Edward breathes. “Look at you.”</p>
<p>“Taking his cock like a champ,” Sol says roughly. “You got your number up in the bathroom at the bar? For a good time, call Tom Jopson—you suck a mean dick, you take his cock like it’s not nearly as thick around as your goddamn wrist—god, you’re fucking fantastic, aren’t he fantastic, Ned?”</p>
<p>“Glorious,” Edward agrees breathlessly. He rocks his hips into Tom, is rewarded with a muffled groan. Looks up the graceful line of Tom’s spine, traces a droplet of sweat as it rolls down all the way to between his shoulders, raises his eyes just a little higher to watch Tom’s head slowly descend into Sol’s lap as he muffles his moans on Sol’s dick.</p>
<p>“Your fucking <em>tongue</em>,” Sol says. “No wonder you were moaning like that, Ned. When he was sucking your cock. Fuck, he’s good, he’s fucking good—Tom, bloody hell—Christ, Ned, fuck him harder, he keeps sucking me like this, I’ll end up coming—no, Tom, don’t change what you’re doing, just—not yet, don’t get me off yet, let Ned fuck you harder, let him get your prostate, he’s real good at that—the fucking girth on him, ‘s the only reason I bottom for him—’is personality is—augh, fine, it’s good, once you get past him being a grumpy fuck—he’s only like that cuz nobody sucks his dick like you do, but now that you’re here—that’s fucking right, moan on my cock like that—Ned’s got you now, don’t he.”</p>
<p>Edward strokes Tom’s back, keeps his hips at exactly the angle that made his muscles twitch like that in the first place. Gives it a few more strokes just to be sure, and then gradually starts picking up the pace until he’s fucking Tom hard enough that it’s jolting him further onto Sol’s dick with every thrust. “You good, Tom?”</p>
<p>Tom pulls off Sol’s cock with a pop, turns back to look at Edward. There’s drool on his lower lip, and Tom wipes it off with the back of his hand. “Yeah, ‘s good—you can go harder. Pull out when you come, yeah? Don’t want it running down my legs after.”</p>
<p>“Fuck,” Edward says breathlessly. “Yeah, course I will.” He reaches around for Tom’s dick, circles it with a loose grip. Fuck, either Sol lubed Tom’s cock up too, or Tom is leaking precome. The length of his cock is slippery in Edward’s hand, and it’s the hottest thing. “Fuck, you’re tight. Taking my cock like a fucking champ. Dick feels fucking amazing. God, Tom.”</p>
<p>“Fuck,” Sol echoes. He’s holding the phone off to the side, his wrist braced on the bed, the exact angle he needs to film Tom sucking on his cock.</p>
<p>By the sounds of things, it’s a wet blowjob, spit everywhere. Just listening to it makes Edward’s balls pull up tight to his body. Edward bites down on his lower lip, squeezes Tom’s hip and fucks into him a bit harder, is rewarded by a ragged groan from the other end of the bed. Christ, he never does this without a condom, doesn’t remember the last time—okay, the last time was Sol, because they do that with each other, but prior to that, he doesn’t remember the last time he’d got his cock inside someone without one, but god, he usually never wants to, not with a random that he picks up that he doesn’t care about, except this isn’t like that at all, Tom is—</p>
<p>—Edward’s rhythm stutters. Christ, is he developing—does he have fee—</p>
<p>“I meant it,” Sol rasps. “Fuck him harder, or I’ll fucking come in his mouth and you’ll have to—have to deal with him drooling that back onto your fucking face instead of—Ned, fucking hell, would you just—”</p>
<p>Edward nods. Swallows. Lets go of Tom’s slick cock and grabs onto his hips with both hands, tugs Tom against him and quickens the sharp stabs of his hips. Tom gasps wetly, buries his face in Sol’s thigh and keens, high-pitched.</p>
<p>There’s a dull <em>whack</em> sound, and Edward glances up to see that Sol’s thrown his head back against the headboard. His teeth are dug into his lower lip, and Edward can’t quite see, he can’t fucking see—</p>
<p>“So tight,” Edward pants. “Fuck, Tom, you’re so—you’re perfect, you’re absolutely perfect, I can’t—fuck, gonna pull out now, babe, I’m gonna pull out—”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Tom says, “go ahead.”</p>
<p>Edward holds Tom’s hips tight, pulls back, pulls <em>out</em>, and just—<em>looks</em>, and holy fuck, the <em>gape</em>—</p>
<p>Edward swallows. Rises up on his knees. His palm is wet from Tom’s cock, and his fingers are shaking when he wraps it around his own. Wipes his other hand on the sheet, plants it between Tom’s shoulder blades. Presses his chest into the bed the same way that Sol does to Edward, the same way that—</p>
<p>—oh, <em>fuck</em>, his hand is slick with Tom’s precome, and he just barely manages to aim for Tom’s spine before his orgasm hits, a gut-punch of lust and pleasure and oh, <em>fuck</em>, it’s Tom underneath him, and Sol watching him, and Edward didn’t think he could have this, he didn’t think he could have this at all, but it’s <em>happening</em>, and it’s going to keep happening after, and—</p>
<p>—the first spurt is high on Tom’s back, the second across his spine. Edward’s vision goes fuzzy and he misses where the third and fourth go, hopes Sol’s caught them with his phone, because fuck, he’s drowning in it, drowning in how good he feels, drowning in—</p>
<p>“Hey,” Sol rumbles. Presses his hand against Edward’s shoulder to keep him upright, slides the fingers of his other hand into Edward’s mouth, pets Edward’s jaw with his thumb. “Here, I’ve got you, I’ll hold you up, don’t squish him.”</p>
<p>There’s a muffled chuckle. Edward looks down. Tom is face-down against Sol’s thigh, and Sol’s cock is standing up proud and tall right next to Tom’s face. Edward shivers, leans into Sol’s hand.</p>
<p>“Christ, you’re gorgeous,” Edward says, enunciating as clearly as he can through Sol’s fingers. “You, uh, capture that blowjob, Sol?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Sol says, voice low, dragging his fingers out of Edward’s mouth, patting him affectionately on the chin. “Yeah, I fucking well did—that, and you fucking covering his back like that, holy fuck.”</p>
<p>Edward reaches up to touch Tom’s face, realizes his hand is covered in his own come. Grimaces, and settles for licking off his thumb, and then the back of his hand.</p>
<p>“Well, you might as well keep going,” Sol says. “You made a right mess of him.”</p>
<p>“Please film it,” Tom says, his voice muffled by Sol’s thigh. He turns his head, nuzzles at the base of Sol’s erect cock. His eyes are half-lidded, and his chin is wet with drool. “Also, you smell great.”</p>
<p>Sol smirks, showing his teeth. “Go on, Ned. Tom and I need a minute before we get going again anyways.” He brings his hand down to Tom’s hair, starts petting it gently.</p>
<p>Edward sucks in a deep, shuddering breath. That makes it easier for him to place his own hands on the bed, and start licking his come off Tom’s skin, because at least someone is touching Tom’s hair while he does it.</p>
<p>(He’s beginning to believe that someone should always, always be touching Tom’s hair.)</p>
<p>God, the mess he’s made of Tom. He starts by pressing a kiss to the base of Tom’s neck, and then slowly works his way down Tom’s body, lapping at the droplets across Tom’s shoulders, sucking at the places where his come has pooled next to Tom’s spine. It feels like worship, feels like a promise made and remade over the beautiful expanse of Tom’s skin.</p>
<p>When he reaches Tom’s arse, he carefully cups one of his cheeks with his now-clean hand, presses his lips to the other. “Wasn’t too hard?”</p>
<p>“Not at all,” Tom says, stirring and rolling over onto his back. He drags his fingers up his hard cock, rubs his thumb over the head, and then offers the glistening dampness to Edward for Edward to suck off.</p>
<p>Edward leans in, sucks Tom’s precome from his fingers. <em>Fuck</em>, Tom tastes wonderful.</p>
<p>“Be right back,” Sol says softly, and he extracts himself from underneath Tom, leaving Edward to collapse into Tom, bury his face in Tom’s neck.</p>
<p>“That was some of the best dick I’ve had in a good long while,” Tom says softly. “I’ll feel that tomorrow, and be glad of it. Here, kiss me?”</p>
<p>Edward turns his head, and lazily kisses Tom, deep and open. He feels languid and loose in the wake of his orgasm, so it’s a bit of a shock when Tom kisses him back intensely, but then he feels Tom’s hardon press up against his stomach, and—oh. Oh, that’s still happening, and Edward shivers with anticipation.</p>
<p>“That’s right,” Tom says. “Are you still good to keep going?” His hand is petting gently at Edward’s nipple, and Edward sighs, leans into it.</p>
<p>“Please,” he says. And, then, “thank you for holding out for me.”</p>
<p>Tom chuckles. “It’s the least I can do, love.” He makes a face once the words are out. “Well, it’s also—”</p>
<p>“Here,” Sol says, coming back into the room. “Give ‘em this.”</p>
<p>“What?” Edward asks blearily, but then he realizes he doesn’t need to ask, because Tom is pressing a kiss to his forehead at the same time as he’s pushing Sol’s pillow into Edward’s arms.</p>
<p>Edward takes it, glances back over his shoulder at Sol, whose face is pink either from exertion or—well.</p>
<p>“Quit lookin’ at me,” Sol says, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “You always grab onto it when you’re in my bed, I got my head right on the mattress most nights.”</p>
<p>“Thanks,” Edward says softly. “And I’m sorry about—”</p>
<p>“Nah, shut it,” Sol says. “Haven’t been kicking you out, have I? It’s rare enough anyways, don’t hurt me none.”</p>
<p>Tom drags his hand down Edward’s side, from his ribs to his hip to his arse. He ducks down so that his head is right next to Edward’s ear. “You ready? Ask me for what you want, anything that you want.”</p>
<p>Edward swallows. “I want,” he says, voice raspy. “I want you to eat me out. And when I’m ready for you, I want you to fuck me.” A sudden stab of worry hits him. “Sol—”</p>
<p>“Don’t worry about me,” Sol says. “Gonna come lie on the bed beside you for a minute and jerk off while I watch Tom eat you out, get some nice footage for us to watch later. I’m looking after my own dick, I’m fine.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” Edward says. He hugs Sol’s pillow close to his chest, buries his face in it and rolls over onto his stomach, puts his arse in the air. Stays there a moment, waiting, and then the mattress shifts next to him and Sol flops down, whacks the back of his hand on Edward’s shoulder.</p>
<p>“Relax,” Sol teases. “Fuck, Tom won’t be able to get his tongue in there if you’re all clenched up, never seen somebody so tense after coming that hard.”</p>
<p>“Sorry,” Edward mutters. Christ, this pillow smells like Sol, like his shampoo and his sweat and the smell of his skin. Edward rubs his face in it, spreads his knees a bit, and shivers when Tom’s hands touch on his arse, and he can feel Tom’s breath ghosting over his crack.</p>
<p>“Arse like this,” Tom says, “how the hell haven’t you got your face buried in it all the time, Sol?”</p>
<p>“Cuz I like sticking my dick in it,” Sol says gruffly. “He makes the prettiest noises when you give him a good dicking.”</p>
<p>“Yeah?”</p>
<p>“Mmhmm.”</p>
<p>Edward shudders, and Sol’s hand is right there, running through Edward’s hair, tugging at it gently, and then Tom drags his tongue down the crack of Edward’s arse, and everything gets very, very quiet.</p>
<p>He should have known.</p>
<p>He can count on one hand the number of times he’s been rimmed, and it’s always been tentative, usually with a dam or a split-open condom, a perfunctory act before intercourse, or before fingering, or before a plug is pressed in so that Edward can get back to topping, since that’s usually where people’s minds go when they see his cock.</p>
<p>That’s not Tom. (He was foolish to even briefly think that would be Tom.)</p>
<p>Tom is devouring him like Edward is a four course meal, and Tom is starving. The pillow was a nice-to-have comfort item a moment ago, but now Edward is clinging to it while Tom licks into him, sloppy and wet. There’s spit on Edward’s balls, and he’s sure some of it is dripping down to the bed. Tom’s nose keeps rubbing up against his crack, and Tom isn’t just dragging the flat of his tongue over Edward’s hole, he’s pointing it, licking <em>inside</em> Edward, using his hands to keep Edward’s arse cheeks apart so that Tom can get deeper, further in—</p>
<p>The first noise that escapes out of Edward is entirely unintentional, a low moan that slips out from somewhere deep inside Edward, somewhere in the vicinity of his gut. It’s muffled by the pillow. By Sol’s pillow.</p>
<p>Tom laps into him again, and Edward presses his face deeper into the feathers, tries not to make too much of a spectacle of himself. It feels like he’s going to fall apart within five seconds of someone licking at him.</p>
<p>(But it’s not just someone. It’s <em>Tom</em>.)</p>
<p>“That’s right,” Tom says against him. “Let me hear you.”</p>
<p>“Here,” Sol says next to him. He puts his hand on the back of Edward’s head, physically shifts him. “Don’t suffocate yourself.” Sol tugs gently on Edward’s hair, encourages him to turn his head to the side. Edward takes a deep breath of—oh, fuck, Sol’s turned Edward’s head toward <em>him</em>, and Edward’s nose is pressed right up against Sol’s bicep. “Don’t muffle it,” Sol says, and Edward takes in a shuddering breath. His forehead is pressed up against Sol’s bicep, which is tight, muscles twitching under his skin as he jerks himself off in short, sharp motions.</p>
<p>Edward <em>whines</em>. He doesn’t mean to, but there’s no avoiding it. He can smell Sol’s sweat and his deodorant, and Tom’s tongue is right up Edward’s arse, and Edward’s thighs keep shaking, and—</p>
<p>Tom slips a finger in alongside his tongue.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” Edward mutters. “Fuck, Tom.” God, Tom’s tongue just—doesn’t stop moving. God, he’s just—Edward is just trying to breathe, and every time he thinks he’s got some air, Tom does something else with his tongue, and Edward loses all his oxygen in another toe-curling moan. He’s light-headed with pleasure now, drunk on it. His entire body is sparks and nerve endings.</p>
<p>“Think you’re gonna get him hard again,” Sol says casually. “And god, you’re making a mess of his sheets.”</p>
<p>“Sorry,” Tom says, pulling back from Edward only long enough to press another finger in alongside his first one. “Can’t help it, hard as hell.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I can see that,” Sol says. “And I appreciate it. Don’t worry, Edward, it’s on video for you. God, he’s got a gorgeous cock, can you believe you just about fucked up the pull?”</p>
<p>“Don’t be mean,” Tom says gently. “Edward is doing his best.” He curls his fingers inside Edward, and Edward’s whole body tenses, his vision going grey and his thighs fucking <em>shaking</em>, his entire body getting swept up into a wave of arousal that peaks and peaks and <em>peaks</em>. “There you are, love.”</p>
<p>“Oh god,” Edward gasps against Sol’s arm the moment he can think again. “Tom, holy <em>fuck</em>.” He takes a deep, shuddering breath. “Did I come? What the...what the fuck just happened.”</p>
<p>“Found your prostate,” Tom says proudly. He pats Edward’s arse. “Think I’d like to fuck you now, if that’s alright.”</p>
<p>“<em>Please</em>,” Edward begs. God, he’s had his prostate touched before, but never like that, never the way Tom does it, he’s just...fuck, <em>fuck</em>...</p>
<p>“How do you wanna do this?” Sol asks. “You’re the one…”</p>
<p>“Hold that thought,” Tom says. “Two seconds to wash my mouth out. Why don’t you give him your fingers, Sol? You were so good with them for me.”</p>
<p>“Bossy,” Sol says affectionately. “That’s brave, I outweigh you.”</p>
<p>“You can benchpress me later,” Tom says dryly, before patting Edward’s arse one more time. “I’ll be right back, love.”</p>
<p>Edward exhales, rubs his face into Sol’s pillow again. Maybe it would have been a good idea to say something, but he’s not really in a <em>say something</em> state of mind right now, feels somehow relaxed and over-stimulated all at once—</p>
<p>“Oh, fucking hell,” Sol breathes from the end of the bed. There’s pressure and then pleasure as Sol gently presses his fingers inside, starts fingering Edward nice and slow, and there’s nothing Edward can do but clutch the pillow and relax into it, the glorious stretch and the near-overwhelming pleasure of the whole thing.</p>
<p>(God, Edward never could have imagined that tonight would go this well.)</p>
<p>“I’ve never seen you this chilled out before, holy fuck,” Sol says softly. “Gorgeous. We should have Tom over more often, huh? What do you say, Ned? Wanna ask Tom if he wants to swing by again? Maybe you should take him out somewhere. Buy him some of those fancy cocktails he likes. Take him to that upscale bar I know you go to sometimes, that one where they need to know who you are before you can get in the door. Bet he’d love that, bet he’d—”</p>
<p>“God, you’re lovely,” Tom says. “You didn’t tell me he gets pink all the way down his back.”</p>
<p>“Sorry,” Sol says, “I’ll—”</p>
<p>“No, don’t move,” Tom says. “I want him to sit on my cock.” Cool fingers drag down Edward’s arm. “Let me in underneath you?”</p>
<p>Edward blinks, shifts over to let Tom crawl in and lay down on his back. Edward lets his head hang down, smiles blearily when Tom tips his head up for kisses. He tastes like mint.</p>
<p>“Borrowed your toothpaste,” Tom confides. “Brushed my teeth with my finger just because I wanted to kiss you again, I like kissing you.” His hands are on Edward’s hips.</p>
<p>“I like kissing you too, Tom. Please, if you could—please fuck me,” Edward begs. “I just—Sol’s fingers are good, I just—I really need cock right now, Tom, please?”</p>
<p>“So,” Tom says. “About that. I can provide...one cock. But you’ve relaxed so nicely for me. Hey, it’s okay, sweetheart, I’ve got you, I’ve got you, here.” He tightens his grip on Edward with one hand, carefully guides Edward down onto his cock. “How’s that feel?”</p>
<p>“Fuck, you’re thick,” Edward mutters. “The fucking stretch—”</p>
<p>“Uh,” Sol says from behind him. “I’ve, um. I didn’t quite get my fingers out, Ned.”</p>
<p>“...wha?”</p>
<p>“You’ve got two of my fingers and Tom’s dick both,” Sol says. His voice is wavering at the edges. “This is the hottest fucking thing.”</p>
<p><em>Fuck</em>. He’s...they’re...<em>fuck</em>. Edward looks at Tom, watching his face.</p>
<p>“What do you think?” Tom asks gently, his eyes bright and wide and gorgeous. “You know how big Sol’s fingers are. You know how big his cock is, and you’re nice and relaxed for us right now. Think you can let Sol put his dick in your ass, right beside mine?”</p>
<p>“...fuck,” Edward says. “Please. Can you please—yes, I want that, I want both of you to fuck me at the same time, please, I—please.” He reaches out with a shaking hand, brushes Tom’s hair back from his face. “T-tell Sol what to do.”</p>
<p>“You’re a treasure,” Tom says softly. “God, Ned. You’re...you’re amazing.” He tips his head up, kisses Edward—lingering, soft. Kind. “I am so glad I came home with you.”</p>
<p>There’s a sound that comes out of Edward. He can’t figure out what it is, only that he feels so intensely about everything right now that it’s easier not to think about what it is, easier to just drop down to his elbows, bury his face against Tom’s shoulder. His entire body feels sensitive, electrified, alive. He’s got Tom’s cock up his arse, and Sol’s fingers hooked on his rim. Sol’s other hand is on his hip, holding him steady, grounding him here, on his bed, with two people that he—</p>
<p>—that he feels intensely about.</p>
<p>“Lube,” Tom says calmly, but when Edward opens his eyes, it’s to see that there’s a feverish glint to Tom’s. “Keep your fingers there, Sol, just rub at his rim, remind his body that it wants to stay relaxed for us both. Yes, like that, just keep moving them a bit, like that. Once you have your cock good and slicked up, you can just ease your fingers out, press your cock in—I’m not moving, I’m staying exactly where I am, I’ll let you get situated.”</p>
<p>“Fuck,” Sol says again. He sounds rattled.</p>
<p>“S’okay,” Edward says softly.</p>
<p>Sol laughs, sounding more than a little unhinged. “Don’t fuckin’ comfort me, Ned, I’m not the one getting two fuckin’ cocks in me.”</p>
<p>Edward makes an indistinct noise. Whatever. It doesn’t matter, and he doesn’t care. He thinks, vaguely, when he puts in the effort to think about his body any further than his arse—he thinks maybe that his cock is getting hard again, thinks that his heart is thudding in his chest, thinks that he’s sweating and hopes that it isn’t on Tom, but also, it’s Tom’s hand on the back of Edward’s neck, petting him, it’s Tom’s other hand on his nipple.</p>
<p>“Alright,” Sol says, his voice shaky. “For Christ’s sake, Ned, say something if it hurts.”</p>
<p>“Won’t hurt,” Edward mumbles.</p>
<p>“That’s right,” Tom soothes. “It won’t hurt because you’re nice and relaxed for us, and because you’re going to say something if you need to, and we’ll sort it all out for you, of course we will.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Edward says, and he’s on the cusp of saying something else, but then there’s a blunt pressure at his arse, and, <em>oh</em>, oh, that’s Sol’s cock, that’s Sol’s cock pressing up into his arse when Tom’s is already in there, that’s—oh, fucking hell, that’s—oh, <em>fuck</em>—</p>
<p>He blinks, blearily focuses on Tom, and Tom’s hand is clenching on the back of Edward’s neck, Tom’s eyes are rolled back in his head, Tom’s back is arching off the bed—</p>
<p>“Almost there,” Sol is saying. “God, you’re taking me so easy—oof, no, it’s fine, here, gimme your foot, Tom, I’ll just hold it—oh, fucking hell. I’m in. Bloody hell, Ned. You’ve got two cocks in your arse, and—and one of them is mine.”</p>
<p>Edward pants into Tom’s shoulder. It’s just on the verge of being too much—he’s never taken anything like this before, though he’s been close, once, in undergrad, and he still thinks about it when he looks at men’s hands sometimes—but this is so much better than that, this is <em>everything</em>, this is—</p>
<p>“—move?”</p>
<p>“Can’t,” Tom gasps. “Fuck, I’ll come if I move—you’re gonna have to do it, Sol, just—slow, go fucking slow—god, fuck, like that—”</p>
<p>“I’m okay,” Edward murmurs. God, it feels absolutely improbable that they’re still on a fucking bed, that they’re somehow still in the flat, that they haven’t transcended space and time and dissolved into atoms. “Fuck, Tom, I can feel everything—I’ll be able to feel it when you come inside me—Sol can fuck your come right into me—”</p>
<p>“Not if you’re talking filth like that,” Sol grumbles. “Look, I ain’t got another hand—Tom, can you just—”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Tom breathes and he squeezes the back of Edward’s neck, drags his other hand from Edward’s nipple ring down to his cock, shudders. “There you are.” He squeezes at the base of Edward’s cock. “I’ve got you, love.”</p>
<p>“Here we go,” Sol mutters. He grinds his hips, thrusts slow, and Edward sobs, whines, moans.</p>
<p>It’s beautiful.</p>
<p>It’s just this side of ecstasy.</p>
<p>He’s so <em>close</em>.</p>
<p>He is a body. He is a body being filled by two men, a body that breathes and sweats and speaks and moves, a body that tolerates his job in order to get through to the weekend, to get home to his roommate, a body that dresses up to go to the club, a body that houses a heart that has been longing for this, exactly this, but that has been too scared to ask for it, and now he somehow has everything that he wants, everything that he needs, everything that he—</p>
<p>—and then he’s not just close.</p>
<p>(Tom is arching underneath him, lips and teeth on the underside of Edward’s jaw, and Sol’s hand is sweat-slipping off Edward’s hip, his hot breath echoing against the small of Edward’s back, and Edward doesn’t know whose cock it is that’s pulsing inside him, only that he can feel someone coming, and it’s going on so long that it might actually be both of them, one after the other, and he wonders who was first while also knowing that it doesn’t fucking matter and—)</p>
<p>He’s <em>there</em>.</p>
<p>Edward is there, and then he’s gone, collapsing down into the bed, and someone is laughing, and he’s pretty sure it’s not him, but he thinks he must be smiling, because lord, does his face hurt in the best way.</p>
<p>🍒</p>
<p>“We’re not kicking him out, right?”</p>
<p>“He’s—” Sol stops, clears his throat. Tries again. His voice is soft, raspy and raw around the edges. “He’s asleep.”</p>
<p>Edward looks down at Tom. He’s asleep on Edward’s chest, breathing deeply. His hair is a sweaty mess, and his hand is protectively splayed over Edward’s nipple. “No, I mean…after he wakes up.”</p>
<p>“Course not,” Sol says gruffly. “Don’t be an idiot. And tip that phone this direction, can’t see the screen when you’re all lax about it.”</p>
<p>“Shit, sorry.” Edward adjusts his arm, which is curled around Tom’s shoulders, changes the angle of Sol’s phone. “Better?”</p>
<p>Sol hums, and Edward feels the vibrations of it in his back, which is stuck to Sol’s chest with sweat. Neither of them are inclined to move, and now they have the addition of Tom’s weight, pinning them here, keeping them from making excuses about it. It’s good. It’s very, very good.</p>
<p>Edward shifts a little, feels come slide down the inside of his thigh, and he’s pretty sure it’s going to end up on—</p>
<p>“Slut,” Sol rumbles affectionately. “Drippin’ on my thigh, still. How’ve you still got more in there?”</p>
<p>“Dunno,” Edward says lazily. “How d’ya figure? ‘s half yours.” He glances down at the screen, mesmerized by the blissed-out expression on Tom’s face as he sucks Sol’s cock. “Fuck, that’s hot.”</p>
<p>“You’re not kidding,” Sol says. “God, it’s a good thing I didn’t know he looked like that.”</p>
<p>“Weren’t you watching?”</p>
<p>“...had my eyes shut.”</p>
<p>Edward bites back a chuckle, turns his head and presses his lips to Sol’s shoulder, and then looks back at the screen. “Oh, this part...how’s your head?”</p>
<p>“Don’t need to be kissed better,” Sol mutters. “Just about lost it there, though, look or you’ll miss it…”</p>
<p>Edward looks down at the video, watches Tom pull off, a thick string of drool connecting his lips to Sol’s cock, before he buries his face in Sol’s thigh, and squeezes Sol’s cock tight. The footage jitters in time with the hollow <em>thunk </em>of Sol’s head against the headboard, and then stabilizes a moment later.</p>
<p>“Had his other hand around my balls,” Sol says in Edward’s ear. “Startled the fuck out of me, but it was real good too.”</p>
<p>“I’ll take notes,” Edward says. He looks away from the phone, watches Tom’s back rise and fall as he sleeps, feeling the warmth of his exhalations across Edward’s chest. “God, he’s gorgeous.”</p>
<p>“You did good,” Sol says. “Nice pull.” He presses his lips to the top of Edward’s head, then rubs his face into Edward’s hair. “Totally worth the mess, and the part where I’ll have both of you in my bed tonight.”</p>
<p>Edward sighs, shifts slightly. Drags his thumb over the video, squints at the timestamp. “Fuck.”</p>
<p>“Hmm?”</p>
<p>“Video’s longer than I thought. I guess I, uh. Lost track of a bunch of time?”</p>
<p>Sol shifts underneath Edward, and Edward winces as more come slides out of him.</p>
<p>“Um,” Sol says. “Well, it’s not, uh. Isn’t all fuckin’.”</p>
<p>Edward glances up at Sol, tightens his grip on Tom’s shoulder as Tom moves in his sleep. “Left the video running by accident?”</p>
<p>Sol looks up at the ceiling. “Might have recorded you two afterwards. I was standing pretty far away, I don’t think I caught your audio, so don’t worry about that...you just looked real good together, curled up on the bed petting each other.” He glances down at Edward. “‘M allowed to be soft about it, aren’t I?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Edward says. “Course you are.” He turns his head, presses his lips to Sol’s arm. “Um. Thanks for this. I know you didn’t do it for me, but—you didn’t not do it for me either, right?”</p>
<p>“...yeah,” Sol says. “It’s about like that, yeah.” He takes a deep breath, exhales slow.</p>
<p>Edward relaxes back into Sol, pets idly at Tom’s shoulder. Tom looks like a fucking angel right now, almost like he’s fucking glowing. Makes up for the part where Edward’s leg is falling asleep, and the puddle of lube and come that’s half on him, half on Sol. He’ll bring pillows over when they move to Sol’s room, he decides. Maybe his comforter, that’s still clean.</p>
<p>“Actually,” Sol says. “Um. On that note. D’ya mind...I wanna take you out. Next week. Properly. No, don’t fucking crank your neck trying to look at me, just—just answer the question, Edward.”</p>
<p>Edward swallows. “Uh.”</p>
<p>“Okay, cool, thanks, forget I—”</p>
<p>“No,” Edward says. “It’s, um. I’d love to. It’s just that I’m going out with Tom on Friday and, uh. I’d like to still do that. Do you, uh. Do you wanna go out on Saturday?”</p>
<p>There’s a pause, during which Edward’s heart clenches, his stomach falls, his lungs hesitate—and then Sol chuckles.</p>
<p>“Can’t,” he says. “Promised Tom I’d take him to my gym on Saturday.”</p>
<p>Edward raises his eyebrows, tips his head back anyways just so he can look at Sol. “I don’t know if I’m more impressed that that pickup line actually worked, or irritated that I didn’t recognize it for what it was. When did you pull that on me, the first fucking week you moved in?”</p>
<p>Sol smirks at him, ducks his head and kisses Edward, soft and tentative. “Thursday,” he says when he pulls back. “I’ll meet you on campus, we can go get burgers and then come back here and fuck.”</p>
<p>Edward chuckles in spite of himself, relaxes back into Sol, idly rubbing his hand on Tom’s arm when Tom stirs on his chest. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, fine, that’s—I’d like that, Sol.”</p>
<p>“Busy week,” Tom says, his voice rough with sleep. He yawns, shifts in Edward’s arms.</p>
<p>Edward looks down, watches Tom rub the sleep out of his eyes and then rest his chin on his hand. He’s still fucking lovely, even bleary and half-awake.</p>
<p>“You two on Thursday,” Tom says. “Edward and I Friday, Sol and I Saturday.”</p>
<p>“That alright?” Edward asks. God, he hopes it is. He wants it to be alright. He wants it to happen again. He wants—well, he wants this, again. He thinks Sol wants it too. He hopes Tom wants it as well. It’s not like Edward is any less a mess now than he was earlier this evening, but Tom sees it, now, Tom’s seen all of him, and if Tom’s seen all of him, and still wants to have anything to do with either of them...</p>
<p>“It’s pretty close to ideal,” Tom says, eyes bright. He yawns again, covers his mouth with the back of his hand. “Sorry, it’s late. Early.”</p>
<p>Edward casually curls an arm around Tom’s waist. “You can stay,” he says softly. “We can pile into Sol’s bed, order breakfast in the morning.” He watches the expression on Tom’s face, relaxes back into Sol’s chest when Tom gives him a soft smile. It’s fine, then. It’s good.</p>
<p>It went well.</p>
<p>“What about a repeat of this, then?” Sol asks, reaching around Edward to touch Tom’s arm in an odd, abortive movement that Edward recognizes as a friendly punch that gets pulled before it makes full contact. “Since it looked good for you.”</p>
<p>“Oh, it was <em>very</em> good for me,” Tom says. He rubs at one of Edward’s nipples, bites his lower lip for a moment as he thinks. “Sunday? I can come back in the afternoon?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know as I’d go to all that effort,” Sol says. “Going home, and all. Stay the weekend if you like.”</p>
<p>Edward looks back, blinks. “Really?”</p>
<p>Sol shrugs. “It was fun. Why the fuck not?”</p>
<p>“It was,” Tom agrees. He sits back on his heels, stretches. “What do you think, should I just bring a couple changes of clothes over?”</p>
<p>“Please,” Edward says, his face going warm. “Yeah, I’d really like that.” He lays back against Sol's chest. “Sol and I would really like that.”</p>
<p>“We would,” Sol says into Edward’s ear, curling his arm around and splaying it over Edward’s belly.</p>
<p>“Well, then, that’s settled.” Tom says brightly. He runs his hands down his torso, chuckles when he reaches the dried come that’s starting to flake off his belly. “Think I’d better hit the shower before we sleep. Who’s coming with me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><b>Content Notes:</b> drinking like hangovers don’t matter because university, woooo | smoking |  light power play | test results exchanged; no condoms used | fond use of the word ‘slut’ | nipple piercings referred to as ‘tit piercings’ on a cis man | most of the sex is filmed on a cellphone; everyone is enthusiastically consenting | varying degrees of feelings, romance, intimacy, affection, and sex between all three dyads because life’s complicated like that | Edward is both self-shaming and being shamed by Sol; it’s implied that Sol and Edward are just Like That | hints of class differences | </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <b>~~~THE END NOTES~~~</b></p>
<p> </p>
<p> <b>Misc Observational Notes:</b> Jopson three hundred percent kicked Tozer by accident when Tozer was putting his cock in Little, it’s fine, I’m fine! </p>
<p>Also, I accidentally sold myself on this rarepair, so fuck me, I guess! Am I trying to do canonverse with this? Yes! I'm a fool! Don't enable me! (Do, please.) </p>
<p>Thank you to <a href="/users/for_autumn_i_am/">Autumn</a>, who beta'd, read along, and generally encouraged me on this. </p>
<p>I'm on <a href="https://twitter.com/heyktula">twitter</a> and on <a href="https://heyktula.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a> and <a href="https://curiouscat.me/heyktula">CuriousCat</a>.</p>
<p>Thank you for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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